Amber
by ElizzzaBear
Summary: Sokka/Zuko adventure romance. Post-canon world with rebels, assassination plots, spirits & more fun for everyone. M rating for adult language, scenarios  M/M
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the first Sokka/Zuko fic that I have published. This will be a romance between two dudes down the line, so if you are not o.k. with that…please do not read it. Please BE WARNED: This story WILL have some BL lovin' later on. That's just how the cookie crumbles, folks.

One LAST thing (promise)-this story is going to go a lot slower than your normal slash fic. Because that is what happens when you like to have a plot. If you are looking for instant gratification, this is not the story for you.

Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA or its characters or anything really. But I do own a cat. And a Kitchenaid mixer.

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Sokka couldn't believe how dry his mouth felt. Darting out his tongue to lick his lips, he swallowed thickly and glanced over his shoulder. Being around this many Fire Nation citizens should have felt normal by now. But he still remembered the not-so-distant moments of sheer terror when their little group had been on the run from the Fire Lord and his army. The teeny tiny little fact that EVERYone in the Fire Nation had _literally_ been out for their blood may have been insignificant, but he felt like it was a pretty hard thing to forget.

It was an honor, though, to be chosen as the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe. Too bad it couldn't have been Katara. Sokka could think of no less than 30 places he'd rather be, and the list was growing. Surfing with the Unagi on Kyoshi Island. Taking a jacuzzi bath in the water around the Boiling Rock Prison. Shoving hot needles under his fingernails at…well, _anywhere _else. To make matters worse, Zuko was making him attend lessons. Lessons! What the hell did a charming and sophisticated guy like him need lessons for? In the Southern Water Tribe, lessons meant getting pushed off an iceberg, and baby it was either sink or swim.

The only, hear it – ONLY – thing that made this entire ordeal bearable was the fact that he didn't have one but THREE hawks, and that Zuko had to suffer through the "lessons" as well. It was pretty amusing, watching Zuko struggle with the classes as much as Sokka was.

At least it would have been amusing if that had been the reality, and if Zuko wasn't a fucking genius and Sokka was apparently a Grade-A retard when it came to all things to do with Fire Nation etiquette and ancient history. Who cared about the difference between a robe with one red thread and a robe with two red threads? Give him planning, maps, blueprints, problems and Sokka would blow you out of the water-_literally_ if you wanted him to. Social niceties and subtle verbal backstabbing on the other hand...

Sokka released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in a giant "whoosh" as he couldn't detect anyone following him. Lessons were lessons, meetings were meetings, and they all deserved to be located in the sixth level of hell, but today he was determined to blow this popsicle stand. Mmmm…popsicles. Task one: decide on first stop while playing hooky-Check! But what flavors would a Fire Nation popsicle stand have… probably something that started with "Nuclear Meltdown…" or "Tear-Inducing…", or perhaps his favorite: "Third Degree Tongue Burn Hot…" Really, the people in this country wouldn't know when to lay off the spices even if their eyeballs were melting out of their faces from the fumes.

Lost in thought, he wandered toward the entrance to the Fire Palace. Meandering along the broad pavilion road, he tried to make it look like he was just out for a stroll and had no place (like in a lesson) to be. Shoving his hands into his pockets and whistling nonchalantly he studied the archway to the exit he was approaching. It really was beautiful craftsmanship , constructed in the standard red and black of the Fire Nation and decorated with gold filigree and gilding. It had bold, aggressive curves and colors but was still tightly restrained. Just like the Fire Nation people, the combination made it intense. Just like Zuko. That kid reeeeeeally needed to cut loose. And soon.

The smell of freedom was crisp and fresh and Sokka was breathing it in by the lung-full. The sounds of the city became more intense and almost deafening the moment he crossed underneath the arch and out of the palace proper. The change in environment was staggering—beautiful, manicured palatial grounds on one side of the wall suddenly became bustling and slightly dirty streets. People were scurrying every which way, pushing past him on their way to important tasks or meetings.

This was still a nice area since it was right outside of the palace after all, but the signs of a city could be seen anyway. Sokka eyeballed a grimy urchin glaring at him from under his shaggy black bangs and double-checked his coin roll. Yep, the signs of a city were definitely here too. It didn't help that he was obviously foreign even though he was almost as familiar with these streets now as he was with his own village. People still tried to take advantage of him or skipped that step altogether and simply tried to take every belonging worth a cent straight off his body.

Years of poor economic direction under Fire Lord Ozai coupled with the enormous financial burden of making peace with the other nations was putting a strain on the palace and the government, and indirectly on the citizens. The number of urchins and street peddlers was increasing—very very slowly, mind you—but increasing nonetheless.

Zuko was doing his best to plug all the leaks and holes and keep the country running while making peace meetings and arrangements with the other nations and observing all the niceties and customs as well as attending endless meetings on repairing the economy….and wow, Sokka's MIND was out of breath listing all the stuff Zuko had to put up with! Yet despite all the tremendous responsibilities he shouldered, Zuko still made time for their lessons. He was also constantly checking on Sokka, trying to make him feel comfortable in this unfamiliar environment and with his shiny new role as Ambassador.

Suddenly feeling very guilty for skipping school, Sokka's mouth tipped into a little frown and the Water Tribe boy sighed, visibly deflated. Zuko was rocking it out as Fire Lord, and he couldn't even keep up with this one little responsibility! Feeling pretty worthless he spun on his heel and began the short walk back to the palace. Determined to try harder and to attack his duties with the same kind of enthusiasm as Zuko, Sokka was making a mental list of the fifty ways he needed to grow up first when something shiny caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

Skidding to a halt, a plume of dust puffed up out of the dry dirt in the street. Hacking and coughing Sokka cursed the dry weather that sucked the moisture out of every living thing in this godforsaken region. It was so dry that even if he wasn't a fire bender, he could've lit shit on fire just by snapping his fingers. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen a bead of sweat before it evaporated, much less a measly drop of rain. Oh, how he longed for an iceberg or two.

Re-gathering his thoughts as the air cleared around him, the boy made his was over to the little street where the silver item had flashed at him. The alley was constricted and had a dank, sick smell to it. Sokka narrowly avoided a grimy pile of something that may possibly have been rags but could've just as easily been something completely grosser—and THAT was something he didn't really want to think about.

Glancing down, he frowned at how dirty his clothes were getting from this little adventure. If he was going to get Zuko a "whoops-I-screwed-up-but-I'll-be-better-now" gift, he wanted to be as presentable as possible. Running his hand over his shirt to brush off the last traces of dust, he reveled in the rough feel of his Water Tribe clothes under his fingertips. His clothing was one of the only things he still had with him that was achingly familiar.

He knew it was dangerous to take these little excursions wearing these clothes while there was still some political unrest in the capital. But he felt like his heritage was slipping away from him at an alarming rate—there were days when he couldn't even remember what the faces of the younger members of his tribe looked like.

Desperately clinging to his memories and his traditions, Sokka had insisted on retaining his own wardrobe at the very least. As piddly as THAT was—all two pairs of pants and three shirts he owned. Plus, the clothing of an Ambassador was beyond ridiculous and fashionista he was not, but there was no WAY he was debuting THAT outfit in public.

After a few more steps, he neared the stand with the silver jewelry that had winked at him from the alley. A layer of muck covered the wheels of the dilapidated little cart. The metal roof was rusted and sunlight filtered onto the wares below through the corroded holes that peppered the rusty tin.

Despite the appearance of the cart the finely crafted silver pieces glittered on a rich blue velvet swath of cloth. Small jewels adorned the pieces in settings such as twinkling eyes in the faces of various animals, some that Sokka didn't even recognize. A particularly fearsome figure glared at him from the luxurious tray with emerald eyes and ruby fangs. The detail of the silver hair was amazing—so fine it almost seemed to rustle in the slight breeze that wheezed through the alley.

There were all different styles and types of jewelry and trinkets, but one in particular sat up and practically _screamed_ "Zuko!" Reaching out, he gently ran a finger across the golden eyes of the dragon peering up at him. The silver beast's body was all ripples with shots of gold twining through its silver scales. The intricate work was superb on the armband.

The dragon's body formed a circle, with the fierce mouth clamped down on its tail. This was an ouroboros—a serpent eating its own tail like that… Sokka felt the rightness settle down in him. This was perfect for his friend. Ouroboros represented re-creation, re-birth, the cyclic nature of things and the immortality of the soul. Plus, it was a dragon and hey now, everyone knew those things were pretty nifty. It looked like it would fit perfectly on the Fire Lord's upper arm, and Sokka knew that he'd seen Zuko with bands on before.

He felt a tad silly about buying jewelry for his guy buddy. Luckily he had very little shame and a tolerably low level of dignity, so he was comfortable feeling like this wasn't really a problem for him. Glancing side to side he spotted the cart's owner hunkered over a rickety old stool. The ancient woman was tiny and grey, so fragile-looking he was almost afraid she would blow away with the next draft of air.

"Found one, have ye?" Well. Her appearance seemed to be the only frail thing about her. Her voice was as clear and pure as the silver trinkets in front of him. How eerily similar to Toph, which was a completely terrifying thought.

"Yep. How much for this dragon? The one with the gold eyes?" Sokka glanced back down at the armband and jumped back in surprise when the old woman's hand was suddenly picking up the object. How the hell had she moved that fast?

"Aaaah. One of my best pieces. Pure silver base with gold weave, amber chips in the eye set, and a ruby heart." The old woman's voice was proud and affectionate as she caressed the dragon. Sokka hadn't seen any rubies, but she had said a ruby "heart." Kind of a waste of a gem, to hide it away like that. The old lady eyeballed him in such an open manner that Sokka actually blushed. "It's not for ye, is it? No offense sonny, but ye're rather built like a wet noodle. I won't sell it to ye."

"Wet-buh..uh, no…noo-wha? I don't…" sputtering, he finally managed, "N-no! It's not for me…it's-it's for a friend…" Sokka trailed off and flushed furiously. Why was he so embarrassed? It was just a gift for Zuko, it's not like it was an engagement gift for a girl! _Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? _Why in the Spirits' Names would he have even thought of Zuko and engagements in the same thought? The heat must have been affecting his brain.

The granny frowned at him. "Sonny," she said gently, "this ain't fer a gel. I've some nice rings and bangles over here if'n that's what ye need. A looker like ye must be gettin' a present fer yer sweetie."

"Ah! No! No, it's not for a girl! It's for a guy!"

"Eh?" the little lady looked him up and down once more. "Dinn't realize ye swang'd that way. Oh well, I hope yer lover is a bit more filled out than ye."

Sokka almost face-planted. "Excu-what?"

"Is he pretty too?" She seemed genuinely curious.

"Yes, I mean, no! He's not-"

"It's a bit of a shame that the pretty ones ne'er reproduce" she tsk-d.

"I don't-I'm not-"

"Eh, I'm guessin' yer the bottom, aren't ye?"

"Now wait a minute! If someone was the bottom it would NOT be me!" What the _HELL_ was he saying?

The old lady cackled, "Har, proll'y best that way, ye look like yer boyfriend could snap ye in half! Ha har!"

"N-no! Wait! It's not like that either-he's not my-"

"Aaaah, sure sure, ye're just _friends_, don't worry, Grandma Leola won't be a-breathin' a word." How had this conversation gone so wrong?

"NO! He's not-ugh!" Sokka smacked his palm to his burning face. This had to rank as one of the most awkward conversations of his _life_, right up there with that first conversation with Zuko after he joined them at the Western Air Temple…and gah! Why the hell was everything coming back to Zuko right now?

Well, he was buying him a present after all. "Listen. It's not for my boyfriend. It's just a present for a friend. One who's done a lot for me." Sokka peeked through his fingers at the lady.

Scrutinizing him for another moment, she finally nodded. "I see. Well… "

"It's not for sale."

Sokka's jaw hit the ground, "Whaaat? Then why do you have it on display right here?" He knew he was whining, but he couldn't let the most perfect present for Zuko –EVER— just slip away like that!

"This here's my pride'n joy sonny, an' it's waitin' fer someone. I'll know 'em when I see 'em. Ye're a sweet one dear, but ye're not the one for this."

Contemplating, Sokka stared at the grandma's face for a moment before responding. "I'm not too bright of a guy sometimes. Mostly I like to stick to the simple things. Knock knock jokes. Meat. Baby polar-seals. Walking in a straight line. I'm about as deep as a puddle. In the middle of the Fire Nation. This week. I may not understand why you stuck a stone inside a bracelet, but I do know that the fact that something so beautiful is hidden inside something that looks so scary only makes it more perfect for my buddy. He's a lot like that, too." Sokka shrugged. He knew his answer was dumb and if it was some tricky Fire Nation quiz, like you must answer a riddle before I sell you this q-tip kind of thing, he was S.O.L. anyway so why not just spit out whatever was on his mind?

The little grey lady stared at him. Her eyes were cloudy and he wondered how she could even see to make it to the bathroom, much less craft this beautiful work. Blinking slowly, she began to pack up her things.

"I'll clean it up and send it to ye. Where are ye stayin'."

"Er-the palace." The woman glanced at him sharply, then nodded slowly.

"Be expectin' it tomorrow, dear."

Dumbstruck, Sokka could only stand there and watch as the woman zoomed away from him. What the hell had just happened? Had the sweltering sun turned her brain to mush? Wait a minute…he hadn't even paid for it! Starting forward, he began to hurry after her down the narrow walkway just in time to see her take a sharp turn around the corner.

Cursing, he tripped over a loose stone and winced as pain lanced through his toe. He realized he was muttering profane and unkindly things about insane little old ladies and quickly put a can on it before anyone could hear. As he reached the other entrance to the alley, he skidded to a halt and looked both ways, then sucked in a surprised breath.

This area was completely different from the street just a block away. He wasn't sure he'd ever even seen this street before. The gutters were dirtier, the shops were a little more run-down and the people seemed to have a sharper edge to them. The whole atmosphere practically shouted "Rough neighborhood! Do not take candy from strangers! Do not run with scissors!"

He jerked back to reality as he saw the rusty tin-roof cart turn the corner around another block and out of his sight. With a final curse, he took off after her at a jog.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry it has taken a while to get this chapter up. Last week I saw my house for all of 20 hours in 4 days. (It's my excuse for the delay. Pretty good one, I think.) Grad school suuuuuucks. Rest assured I have already started working on Chapter 3! And yes, this IS Chapter 2! (Despite some initial confusion you all may have in the first few paragraphs). Thank you to all who reviewed. I appreciate feedback and it can only make the story better. BTW, if anyone is interested in the whole "Beta" thing, I don't really have a need for a grammatical Beta, but I would love someone who would like to read before I post and make recommendations on plot improvement! If you are interested, please contact me. If you don't like the slow pace of my story, don't read. If you like dogs, adopt. **P.S**. I try to make the thoughts/ dialog as funny as I can. Sadly, I am not a think tank of Nickelodeon script writers and I only have what's in my head. Which isn't much. Plus, I suck at jokes. So sorry. Wish I were funnier.

**Disclaimer: I own diddly.**

**Story Time! Amber: Chapter 2**

Sokka woke up in time to see the packed earth in front of the West palace entrance rushing up to meet his face. He connected with a painful _crunch_. Laying there for a moment panting heavily, Sokka groaned and curled onto his side. The cart that had dumped him there left in a hurry, clattering down the road in a whirlwind of dust. This was a sparsely populated side of the palace—the perfect place to dump a body if you were trying to make a point. There were very few people around, and even fewer willing to help that body out. Ultimate result: less chance of survival. Every thug's wet dream.

Too bad for them he wasn't as roughed up as they thought he was. Psssh, he was tougher than _that_. He HAD run with the Avatar, people!He worked his legs underneath him and forced himself into a crouching position. His entire body screamed in pain. He wasn't anywhere close to dying or anything, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Blue eyes slid sideways to watch a trickle of blood roll down his arm, reach the edge of his palm and plop to the ground in a perfect little crimson circle. He licked his lips and tasted the metallic tang, wincing as he tested his split lip with the tip of his tongue. He had to get into his room without letting anyone see him, even Zuko. _Especially_ Zuko. Once he'd been stitched up by the palace healer he could pass on what he'd discovered without anyone being the wiser about him getting his ass seriously tore the hell up.

Those fuckers wanted to rile up the Fire Lord and start a civil war. What better way to do that than to beat his best friend to a bloody pulp. Not to mention that said best friend just happened to be Water Tribe AND an Ambassador. Double rainbows for everyone! Geez, how cliché could these idiots get? There just had to be more creative ways to start a civil war. Come to think of it, this really was just so… so…_ Fire_ _Nation_ of them! Don't be open and honest about your blood thirsty intentions, no no, in the Fire Nation you need to target a friend of your enemy and send the _subtle_ message that you want to take off the Fire Lord's head. Not on his watch—Zuko had more than enough to deal with already. Sokka would take care of this himself, swiftly and quietly.

Riiiight after he took a nice 10 hour nap, recovered from this concussion, and healed a few bones. He'd have to think of some creative story to tell the palace healer. Perhaps he could say he'd been trampled by a rhino-potamas in the garden. They had those in the Fire Nation, didn't they? He'd have to look it up. But right now, it was time to move.

_Earlier…_

_Huff huff huff_, his breath was wheezing out in painful pants. It had been a long time—a really _really _long time—since he'd run that fast and that far. He was going to have to do some major training when he got back to the palace if this was the shape he was in! But that old lady had some _wheels_. He still couldn't believe he'd been outrun by a woman with one foot in the grave.

Trotting to a stop Sokka hunched over, one hand pressed into his side. He had a major stitch going on and the unbearable heat was making him a little dizzy. The area he was in was totally unfamiliar. People around here wore much rougher commoners' clothing and were busy plying their wares or working their trade. This street was much busier than the ones he was used to, and he was shoved roughly a few times as he got in the way of frazzled tradesmen and merchants.

After a few moments, his body had cooled off some and he took better stock of his surroundings. Houses and stores lined the streets in even lots and seemed almost agonizingly organized, like little soldiers lined up in a row. Many alleys darted between the buildings offering quick escape routes if he needed them. Citizens here, while dressed much more commonly, seemed to be passingly polite. They were also studiously ignoring him. Thankfully, they seemed a little more human than the upper crust of the Fire Nation and he could tell from their marginally expressive faces that they were simply unsure what to think about him. Well, he supposed they didn't see clothes like his every day—they were a depressingly homogenous nation sometimes when it came to fashion. Or at least in choice of favorite color.

The war had only ended a few short years before and the re-integration of the Fire Nation into the global community had been slow going. Not surprising since they had been so racially isolated from all the other cultures and nations thanks to Fire Lord Bo-zai. (Like a cross between "bozo" and "Ozai"… kind of a play on words… never mind. He was the sarcasm guy but that didn't mean he always hit a home run.) Memories of the war were still too raw for many citizens of the other nations and they had been as stubborn as mule-ox when Zuko had tried to get them to set up shop in the capital. He knew how they felt.

Yawning while his body pulled itself into a deep stretch, he cracked his neck, shrugged and turned to head back to the palace for the second time that day. Let's see, he'd been running…south, so the palace had to be straight north. Spying a connecting alley with a set of stairs leading down to the next parallel street he set off at a leisurely pace. Whistling, he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and turned his face to enjoy the sun and the fading heat of the afternoon. It really wasn't so bad when it cooled off a bit late in the day. Despite having been so out of breath, he had enjoyed his sprint around the Fire Nation capital much more than he would have ever imagined. He was tired but it seemed to have burned off some of the excess energy that had been driving him crazy.

Lost in thought, he trotted down the stone steps as the alley dipped below the basement level of the houses. Cool rock at the base of the structure provided an excellent brace for his hand as he playfully jumped over the last step and onto the beginnings of the next street at the bottom of the stairs. He was concentrating so hard on keeping his balance that he didn't see the fist coming towards him until it connected with his cheek. There was only enough time to throw himself forward slightly so that it glanced off his face rather than crunching it at full force. Taken by surprise, his body fell naturally back into the reflexes he'd honed during the war. While crouching low to the ground his eyes darted swiftly back and forth to take in his attackers. He counted four ugly mugs.

The words of his master Pindao still echoing in his head from years earlier, Sokka sprang lightly up a couple steps to give himself an advantage. Shit. There were two more of these assholes coming down the stairs from the street above. Six total. Guess honor wasn't something that all Fire Nation were gifted with—there were bad cabbages in every cart. All of the men carried themselves like ex-soldiers except for one—he carried himself like an asshole. He'd probably been an officer and was most likely the one Sokka could thank for having organized this friendly little party.

Although he seemed to have been used to finer living at one point in his life, his hair was now lank and dirty. The heat had caused it to clump into gnarled knots and fly-aways stuck to the sticky sweat on his forehead. Rough lumpy features gave him a mean look and his eyes were narrowed in a beady glare. What he lacked in hygiene he made up for in ample amounts of beefcake and muscle. Dude was a freaking giant.

"Ah. You must be the Madam," Sokka said to big and ugly. "Sorry, but I'm not really interested. I took a vow of chastity, you know. I don't think my pure and innocent body could handle the excitement. Though between me and you buddy, I can see why you're so aggressive with your marketing tactics—I'm sure they have nice personalities but your ladies here are a liiiiittle on the butt ugly side. I'd be crying on the inside the whole time."

"Hn," a nasty smile spread over Ugly's face, "Think you're pretty funny, huh."

"I _know_ I'm fucking hilarious, Hamhock. What's not funny is your clichéd response. Is there seriously not one creative bone in your Fire Nation body? Even ambushing me at the bottom of a stairwell is kind of a tired tactic. Now, if you'd added in a fire-breathing three-toed weasel-squirrel, things could have been going much differently. If you rode it for more than 8 seconds, I'd even have been impressed."

The smile slid off Ugly's face. "I don't think you're funny. What I do think is funny is sending that brat sitting up in that joke of a palace a message. With your dead body." Sokka froze. Well, that was a little more serious than he'd thought. Still pretty cliché though. He gave a deep inward mental sigh. Well, he supposed he'd found the rebels that they'd been tracking through the city—there was no other way they'd recognize him. His position had been kept pretty hush-hush, at least until they could do a formal "reveal." (Hence, the boring etiquette lessons that weren't sticking) At least his day hadn't been entirely unproductive—as long as he made it out alive. Glancing around again it didn't seem like that would be a problem.

Big and Ugly was tough for sure, but of the remaining five only three looked like any real threat. The mug on his right was short and small but he knew from experience with Aang that something like that didn't mean jack. He had a few wicked-looking knives strapped to him that may have been ornamental but Sokka knew that that probably wasn't the case. Shorty also had sported a broken nose at some point in his career, so either he was really bad at hand-to-hand or he'd had a looooot of practice.

Number Two was one of the thugs who'd crept up behind him on the stairs. While the others had been muttering to each other during Sokka and Ugly's exchange, he'd been unnervingly quiet the whole time. He seemed satisfied with simply staring at Sokka's head. That restrained quiet seemed to hide a coiled and deadly anger; his money was on fire bending as the weapon of choice for Basket Case. As if the swirling tattoos of fire curling up his neck hadn't been his first clue.

Thug Three was the odd one. He was blonde—not just regular blonde—he was _Yue _blonde. Sokka was certain he couldn't recall having ever met a single blonde Fire Nation citizen before. Blondie had to stick out like a sore thumb around here and he must have been teased mercilessly when he was a kid. Which would explain the downright psychotic look in the guy's brown eyes. Oh well. As fun as it had been to sit around with his thumb up his butt daydreaming, it was time to come up with a plan.

First and foremost, now that he'd identified his attackers as being the most likely culprits in the resistance they'd been looking for, he needed to get this information to Zuko and the Advisors ASAP. As much as he hated it, this meant that Operation Beat the Ugly out of Ugly was NOT a go, and Operation Turn Tail and Run needed to get its ass into motion. While there were only two on the stairs above him, fighting his way uphill was not likely to succeed if he were rushed from behind. The weakest link seemed to be with the rather plain-looking fellow on the right. If he broke past him and stuck to the wall he could likely slip past them and disappear down another side street, or at least create some distance in a crowd. The street they were currently on seemed suspiciously devoid of people—something that could probably be chalked up to Ugly.

"I hate to disappoint you, but while I have been known as the meat guy, Sokka's not on the menu tonight. I'll be seeing you ladies around." On the last few words he sprang to his right and slammed his shoulder into Timid's solar plexus, followed by a quick jab of his elbow to the gut. Kid went down like a ten ton sack of potatoes. It was beautiful. The rest of the mugs sprang at once and Sokka took a moment to sweep the feet out from Shorty, who had been reaching for a dagger, and then he was around the corner and running. There sure seemed to be a lot of cardio going on today.

He may have been out of shape, but he was still leaving the thugs in the dust. There were definitely some advantages to being lean and light in these situations. Spirits, they made such a racket as they sprinted down the street—screaming and yelling and knocking shit over. Stumbling on a loose pebble, Sokka had to will his legs to move faster. That chase earlier had really taken more out of him than he'd thought. A murmur of noise drifted towards him faintly from the distance—a market! Just a little farther….

_Wham_.

Sokka stared at the blue sky as he tried to push away the fog in his thoughts. He'd been doing something really, really important just now…

"Not such a tough little shit now are you?" Oh yeah, that's right. Running.

"Doesn't look like much, does he." A woman's voice? So there were seven. He should have known that those cowards would have hidden someone in the shadows.

"Oof!" Sokka curled onto his side as a swift kick knocked the wind out of him.

"Na, he thinks he's big shit acting like he's better than Fire Nation, but he's just Water Tribe trash." Gaa, what had that chick hit him with? It felt like she'd taken a tree trunk to his face; he could almost feel the concussion like it was taking an egg beater to the contents of his skull. Were his brains leaking out? He was only half-ass listening to their running commentary as he struggled to get a hold of his thoughts when a few words made him freeze.

"…take care of this scum first. Then, next month when that Water Bitch gets here Zhen will take her out. If anyone can do it, Zhen can. I mean, he's been livin' up in that place for months now! Eatin' all good and shit. All that precious 'peace' bullshit that traitor has been spewing will be a joke when the Avatar kills him for croakin' his girl. Zhen's always been good at that, did I ever tell you about his first wife? Well, he walked in on her…" Timid really opened up when he thought his opponent was down. Classic bully.

No fucking way. Killing Katara...blaming it on Zuko… That was unacceptable. Sokka didn't believe for a minute that Aang would ever let them get away with it in the first place—it seemed like a pretty half-baked plan—but the sheer audacity of even planning something awful like that just...just made him...FUCKING PISSED! There was also the off chance that even though Aang would never believe Zuko had done it, they just might get away with hurting Katara. Especially if it was true that they had already hidden a traitor inside the palace-for _months _now. Anger cleared the remaining cloudiness in his mind. He paused a moment then threw himself to the left, rolling on his side down the street. Three of his attackers went down like felled trees. Desperate, he rolled to his feet and tripped to a start. His grasping attempt at an escape was short-lived however, when he was tackled painfully from behind.

Pain was something Sokka had become accustomed to during his training and in practice. Not to mention the countless times he'd gotten knocked around by Toph. But on a scale of one to ten of pain, getting his ass beat by six ex-Fire Nation soldiers was pretty much a nine. Or a ten. _Crunch_. Or an eleven. After a few minutes, Sokka had the sinking suspicion that they had not been exaggerating about his dead body and he stopped fighting back and played up the beating. After a few more minutes he didn't have to act and one last blow to the head brought darkness.

_Present…_

Thinking back on the attack gave Sokka the motivation he needed to keep his body moving. There were definitely some broken ribs that were giving him trouble and his face and right arm felt like somebody had taken a club to them. He'd lost a lot of blood, this wasn't good.

Making it into the palace from the relatively deserted West gate had been disturbingly easy and he vowed to address this with Zuko as soon as he recovered. The few guards he'd encountered had been easily avoidable. Disgusted, he shook his head and snuck through the entrance to the main palace. His footsteps echoed in the towering hallway and he cringed as he stumbled and grabbed onto a nearby table, knocking over the ornamental vase it had been displaying in the process. Sure enough, he heard footsteps moving swiftly in his directions. He quickly ducked into another corridor and began the slow trek through the maze of walkways to his room.

Think think think, he had to think. How could he get the healer without letting him alert Zuko or any of the Advisors. They had never been used, but a series of bells existed in his room that connected an inner system in the walls. The alert from the bell traveled through this system and down the hallways and notified the palace help when they were needed. It had always felt way too pretentious to use it, so Sokka wasn't entirely sure how it worked (although he had been itching to take it apart and look at the mechanisms for a long time). Problem solved.

He almost cried in relief when his room came into view. His arm was throbbing and the hallway was tilting suspiciously to one side. The door loomed in front of him and Sokka swiped at the giant handle. Shit, he missed. Shaking his head to clear his vision, he tried to focus on the handle as it swam back and forth before him. Concentrate, concentrate—there we go! The smooth wood felt odd in his grip, like his hand was overly sensitized or something and it seemed to take an inordinate amount of strength to wrench the door open. Tumbling into his room with a gasp, he plunged to the ground and rested his cheek on the cool floor. The tile was soothing on his face, which He dimly realized that it was possible he was developing a fever. He needed to get moving-this was getting bad, and quick.

Too exhausted to get back onto his feet, Sokka began crawling towards the wash room. Reaching out with a shaky hand, he nudged open the screen door separating the rooms with his fingertips. His body felt so heavy, it was hard to drag himself with the one good arm. As he looked behind him, he noticed a trail of blood and ichor that marked his path from the entrance to the wash room. He blanched and his face turned a little green as he noticed how much there was. It would really suck if the thugs' plan worked.

The bell was almost within reach, he just needed to pull himself up to the counter. Why the hell had they put one of the bells in the bathroom, anyway? What an absolutely moronic place to put it. Did they think he needed help washing his ass? Come to think of it, there was another bell beside the breakfast area. And one beside the dressing space. Not to mention the one beside the bed… Whoa, whoa, whoa, right now Sokka did NOT want to think of the implications of THAT.

Grasping the edge of the counter with his good hand, Sokka gritted his teeth as he flexed and pulled. His torso seemed to grow heavier as his strength dwindled. The other arm dangled uselessly by his side and Sokka gave out a strangled cry of frustration. This was not happening-he was stronger than this. Shouting his defiance, he pulled harder on the counter and gave a grim smile as his body began to slowly inch upward towards his goal. The smile slipped off his face as his fingers lost their purchase on the smooth stone, and he tumbled backwards. He was just able to stop himself from cracking his already-abused skull on the floor but he found that he was unable to move himself any further. His body felt like lead and patches of blackness were growing in fuzzy spots in his vision. The fuzzy spots began to grow like a mold, blotting out the dim light of the room. Helpless, Sokka plunged into the darkness.

**Final Note: **Yay Zuko! Next chappie! Amor vincit omnia! ALSO! I _will_ be explaining the absence of Suki, etc later and hopefully give a little more insight into Sokka's thoughts. Right now I'm still just trying to introduce the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chap-tah three!** I hope you approve. I still do not have a Beta, so if there are any plot inconsistencies or it does not flow right…blame yourself for not volunteering. ;) j/k. Seriously though, there are only so many times I can proofread it without getting sick of it. Btw, I am sorry to any Suki fans out there, but hey, if you want a story where everything is sunshine and roses—write one. You may notice that Sokka has a lot of suggestive humor in this fic, but please keep in mind that he is a _teenager_. That is how they roll. **Disclaimer: I own jack. (By this, I mean nothing.)**

* * *

"…ka…Sok…Sokka…SOKKA!" The voice echoed in his head like an army of little chisels, all tapping away merrily at the inside of his skull. He stumbled through the haze—there was something he was trying to reach, something he was trying to grasp, but he just couldn't seem to touch it. He heard muffled voices and shouts all around him but nothing was familiar—where the hell was he? He couldn't remember what he'd been doing before. Maybe he'd gotten too drunk at a party. It was weird though, he couldn't remember what party he'd gone to. It seemed like a fog had wrapped around his thoughts and he could catch snippets, understand bits and pieces, but nothing was coming together.

He tried to sit up but something held him back. It felt like arms were pushing him down, creating a giant weight on his chest. It was restricting his movements and the more he struggled, the tighter the iron bands got. Panic set in and he was bucking his body, trying to sit up against the heavy pressure. He couldn't think, he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, what the hell was going on? Distantly, the muffled shouting got louder and became a din of noise. The roaring voices were deafening like he was in the middle of a crowd, and it sounded like someone was covering their mouth, screaming.

"….ka! Sokka! Stop! Shit, dammit, FUCK! Where the hell is all this blood coming from! Where the fuck is the other healer? Get him NOW goddamit or I swear to the spirits that if something happens to Sokka I will hold _ALL _of you PERSONALLY responsible. Sokka you dickhead, stop trying to move, dammit!"

Sokka? Who was Sokka?

Oh yeah. HE was Sokka. Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe.

After the first memory leaked through, the rest flooded his mind like water bursting through a dam. Along with it, every single cut, bruise, broken bone and bodily injury that he had been blissfully numb from before came crashing down on him. The pain was utterly debilitating. Hands were touching his sides with swift and sure strokes assessing the injuries up and down his body. Each touch brought searing pain which made his back bow in agony. The problem with tamping down pain as he had when travelling from the palace gate to his room was that when you moved around so much with injuries, things tended to get worse. Then they tended to hurt more. In that order. As he opened his mouth to voice his agony, he realized that the muffled screaming he had heard earlier was coming from his own throat.

Dark figures were darting around the room as he managed to crack one heavy eyelid open. Yellow bathroom walls were fuzzy and spinning, the delicate pattern on the paper swirled into crazy symbols and shapes. Every time he tried to focus on something a sharp pain lanced through his skull.

"Sokka! Sokka! He's awake! Sokka, stay with me here." He gagged as strong fingers gripped his shoulders and shook him slightly. Spirits, even the pain from a simple touch was ridiculous. Either his injuries were worse than he'd thought or he had contracted a fever from the open wounds. "Sokka, we're going to have to move you, there's not enough room in this bathroom. It…it may hurt a little, I'm so sorry." And baby, he wasn't kidding. Sokka was grateful this time as he fell back into the comforting oblivion of unconsciousness.

* * *

When he came to again, he found himself being awakened by angry whispers.

"Lord Zuko! You need to _move_. Let the healers do their jobs. There is nothing you can do for him right now, you are only getting in the way!"

"But Uncle-"

The response came a little more gently, "Zuko, you are truly a skilled fighter and a capable leader. But you are NOT a healer, my nephew. My injury from Azula was nothing compared to…compared to…to _this._" Shit, just how bad did he look?_ "_I am just as worried as you are, but we need to be patient and help in the ways that we _can_—and that is not by hovering around like a mother hen, Zuko." Iroh's voice sounded exasperated, like he had made this argument repeatedly before. The short silence that followed was punctuated by a heavy sigh. "Have you contacted Suki, Nephew?"

Sokka held his breath for Zuko's answer. He wanted to let the two men know he was awake but he also really wanted to hear Suki's response. It was wrong to eavesdrop and he felt kind of guilty, but he seriously doubted he would get the full story otherwise. Everything that had happened with Suki had just…sucked. Pretty bad. He started to feel a little sad as the silence stretched on.

"Lord Zuko, if it were you laying there, Sokka surely would have contacted Mai no matter what the consequences would have been—from you _or_ from her."

Zuko made a disgusted sound. "It's not the same, Uncle. Mai and I, we fought. We fought a _lot_. We still care about each other, but you just can't restore a country to peace when there is war at home."

"Zuuuko. That was almost poetic of you. Country to peace…war at home…I should use this for one of my tea cup fortunes."

"Ugh. I can't believe those cheap cups of yours are actually successful. They're so _embarrassing._ I saw one the other day that didn't have words in the bottom, it had...it had…_pictures_. And a couple actually _bought _a whole _set_! Have you no shame, Uncle?_"_

"Hahahaha, Nephew, when you are my age you may learn to appreciate that shame is highly overrated!" He paused for a full-bellied chuckle. "But Zuko, what were you doing in a store that sold my cups with pictures on the bottom? If I recall, that series was a little…risqué."

Zuko made a strange gargling sound, like the words were stuck in his throat, "Uh, nothing. I was just…curious about something. About—about _THAT_ kind of trade in our capital. And uh, what-what nations might be willing to trade those…things…with us…" Wow. That sounded a little weak, even to Sokka. Although it was certainly entertaining to hear Zuko squirm (and there would definitely be some blackmailing later to get a field trip to this "store"), it seemed like the topic of Suki had almost been forgotten. He was about to let them know he was awake—again—when Zuko blurted, "And anyway, that has nothing to do with Sokka. I mean, Mai. Crap-no, I mean Su…argh, Uncle, it's just not the same! Mai and I, it was mutual! Sokka and Suki—it wasn't. I know she didn't mean to, but she hurt him pretty bad." Sokka felt something painful tighten around his heart. He hadn't known that Zuko realized how badly he'd been hurt. He had tried really hard to keep that locked up pretty tight. Was this the real reason Zuko had approached him about becoming an Ambassador?

The conversation seemed to stop there for a while as both Fire Nation men sat and contemplated, not breathing a word. For a third time, Sokka was about to let them know he was awake when Iroh's rumbling voice stopped him. This was just getting silly, he just needed to sit up and nip this conversation in the bud but for some reason his heart wasn't letting his body follow his brain's orders. It was a complicated chain of command.

"So, Zuko. What was her response?"

He could almost feel the daggers that Zuko was glaring at Iroh. Zuko had been a really good friend throughout everything. It almost made him a little smug that he was getting so worked up on Sokka's behalf. About a year after the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai, his relationship with Suki had taken a sudden and unfortunate turn for the worse and things in Sokka's life had fallen apart. Everyone had been so busy right after the war. There was a lot of disorganization and chaos that had needed to be dealt with, particularly as many troops were suddenly disbanded. After spending their entire lives under a military-happy regime, scores of Fire Nation soldiers hadn't had anywhere to turn and no trade or skill to pick up. As a result, more bandits, smugglers and criminals had started to pop up around the countries than had ever been seen before. Sokka had been part of the team that had travelled around, cleaning up the violent outbreaks and collecting the bad guys—along with Toph, Chit Sang. A handful of Jet's old crew had adopted the motto "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," and had helped him craft numerous clever plans to catch bandits.

Suki had gone back to Kyoshi and was too busy helping her people rebuild to join their team. Katara and Aang were worked to the bone forming political alliances between key members of each nation and he hadn't seen any of them for months. After about a year, their team had come pretty close to ridding the countryside of virtually all gangs and bandits related to the war—or at least as best they could. So he had thought, 'What a perfect time to finally meet up with Suki and pick up where they had left off, right?'

Oh, how wrong he had been.

He could still taste the salt on the wind from that day on Kyoshi Island. A nice breeze had been lifting the cool air off of the ocean and bathing everyone in a fine mist. It had been only a little relief from the heat, but the weather wasn't unbearable like it was in the Fire Nation. His pants had felt slightly tacky as the salt and moisture had permeated the thin cloth. He remembered tripping over the loose wooden plank coming off the ship and stubbing his toe. It had been pretty embarrassing to faceplant in the sand, but everyone was fairly used to his antics and they had all laughed it off together.

His intention was to surprise Suki in a giant display of romance that topped all of the goofy things he had ever done before. Forget roses in a tent, he had dressed himself up as one of the Earth Kingdom package delivery men—sweet bird ride and everything. (He still wasn't entirely sure what kind of animal the bird he was riding was, but it was pretty friendly and even managed to hand him the reins whenever he dropped them) The gesture may have been gag-worthy, but he had packaged up a painting of a heart (drawn by yours truly) and was all set and ready to deliver! He had waited a year for Suki and he planned to make it up to her for every day they had missed, in triple. They had a really strong relationship that had stood the test of time before and had even gotten stronger during the trials of the war.

So being the faithful, loyal guy he was, when he walked into Suki's lodge after their long separation, it was with a big smile and his heart on his sleeve (and in a box).

He had immediately turned around and walked right back out. Apparently Suki hadn't believed in waiting.

He had received letters but they remained unopened. It was probably a bit of an overreaction on his part—after all a year was a really long time to wait for someone. But _he _had waited. A worried Katara had flown down on Appa at once to visit him when he returned to the Southern Water Tribe. He eventually discovered that she had spoken with Suki shortly before heading down to see him and that Suki had sent a message with Katara. After refusing to listen for a few days, Sokka finally gave into his sister's pressuring. Suki had expressed a lot of feelings in the message, regret amongst other things. It seemed that she had not realized he would, nor expected him, to remain faithful during their year-long "break." They had never made this clear between them, but he had always just assumed that she would feel the same way that he did about it. There were a lot of other sentiments but Sokka had just let the words fall on deaf ears as he sat staring blindly forward in the cold little hut. It was all one giant misunderstanding, but that didn't stop his heart from feeling about as barren as the fields of ice around him. Seeing Suki embracing another man…there was just no way to go back to what they had had. The few months after had been a dark time for Sokka as the scene kept replaying in his head.

Three months later, Zuko had popped up on one of his nifty little metal ships and whisked him away to become an Ambassador. There had been such a whirlwind of activity that Sokka had never even questioned Zuko's motives for choosing him. The time since had been taken up by packing, planning, organizing, learning his new role, attending lessons on Fire Nation culture, debriefing the Advisors on Water Tribe customs that they would need to respect, that by the time he had a moment to think about Suki and the pain in his heart, it had already become just a dull ache rather than the sharp pain it had been. In retrospect, it had likely been Katara who had made the suggestion to Zuko, even though Sokka had probably already been on his short list of candidates for the position. Zuko had never mentioned it though, and Sokka had never brought the subject up although he was sure Zuko knew the details.

"I don't know. I haven't heard back." Zuko's terse reply interrupted Sokka's trip down memory lane. He couldn't tell if it was relief or disappointment that was causing the fluttering feeling in his stomach.

"…I see. Ah, the healers have returned. Sokka, you can wake up now." He felt the heat flood his face as he realized that Iroh had known he was listening the entire time. Cracking his eyes open, he got his first full look at where he was. Looking straight up, he had to let his eyes take the time to focus—a process that felt infinitely painful as his vision adjusted to the soft light of the room. His pounding head was telling him that ANY light was bad light right now.

A massive swath of red and gold silk hung ten feet above him in a swirling canopy. Solid dark wood was carved in to four posters, with scenes of dragons and other fire-breathing creatures carved into the beams like totems. He lay on a plush sea of deep burgundy fabric that felt like smooth heaven under his touch. The two men in question stood to the right of the bed and Zuko's worried face hovered over his as he blinked up at the Fire Lord's worried eyes. He was totally in Zuko's room. He snickered.

"…kinky, Zuko. Do you always get the girls into your bed while they're unconscious? I mean, I like you and all but it's just the first date…"

Silence.

"Ugh, I don't know why the hell I worry about you. How can you be so ridiculous in this situation!" Zuko threw up his hands and stalked away from the bed to side table that sported a silver tray with a pitcher of water and two short glasses. Filling one up, he made a sound of disgust as he stalked back over to the bed and shoved it into Sokka's fingers as the liquid splashed over the edge onto the sheets.

"It's one of my finer qualities."

"That was rhetorical. And you just made the assumption that you have _any _redeeming qualities. Somebody must have lied to you, Sokka."

"Damn, I knew I shouldn't have listened to that little voice in my head." The playful banter almost made him forget how badly every inch of his body felt. Almost.

Zuko sighed. "Sokka, here again you just made an assumption that there is _anything _in your head."

"Are you saying you just want me 'cause I'm pretty? You're so shallow, Zuko." He murmured as he took a refined sip from the glass of the water. "I was certain you were different from the other boys."

Zuko snorted. "At least we can see that your mouth wasn't injured. Too bad you didn't get the sarcasm knocked out of you."

"The maids would have been devastated if I couldn't talk. They may be fond of your ass, but they say I have a better personality, you know."

"You're joking if you want me to believe that someone willingly talked to you…wait a minute, what the fuck Sokka, this NO time to be sucking me into one of your retarded conversations! What the hell happened to you? No, don't answer that now, first tell me where you're injured—no wait, don't answer that either, you're injured _everywhere_. In fact, just shut up and stay still while the healers check you, but don't think you're off the hook. When you pull through this and you're feeling better, I am going to personally FRY your ass and you _will_ tell me every minute detail that happened—down to when you took your first shit of the day…"

Sokka blinked. Wow. Zuko was upset. That was quite a tirade he had going there. He was pacing back and forth beside the bed while the healers changed some bandages and the resident Water Tribe healer used the water-bending techniques on a few of his larger injuries. She had to be getting a hefty sum of money for this.

"…and you are under no circumstances allowed to leave the palace without at least two guards with you at all times. Katara and Aang should be here tomorrow and she's going to work with you on some accelerated healing-"

"—Wait. Shit—fuck! Katara and Aang? _Tomorrow?_" Holy spirits! How the hell had he forgotten to tell Zuko about the assassin? "Zuko! Stop! There is something really, really important I need to tell you! Shit! How long have I been out of it? These people need to leave _now_."

"You've been out of it for a week. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, it's not like I've really had a chance but Katara and Aang heard about what happened and they decided to rush here a few weeks early to help you recover-"

"NO! You've got to send them back, Zuko!" Zuko gave him a level stare and Sokka got a good look at him for the first time since he had woken up. His hair was down around his face and it looked like he hadn't taken very good care of it in a while. Dark circles stood out under his eyes which were rimmed red with sleeplessness. His skin looked a little pale and Sokka was pretty sure he hadn't eaten in a day or two. Damn, he looked like shit.

"Friends, thank you for helping. I think Sokka needs to get some rest now. Iroh and I will look after him for the time being, please help yourselves to some dinner and some rest. I know you have all been working hard." The dismissed healers shuffled wearily out of the room, throwing curious glances back at the now-serious and deadly quiet trio. Sokka had almost forgotten that Iroh was in the room earlier, but now both uncle and nephew drew close to the bed to hear what Sokka had to say.

"Zuko. I promise I will give you every single detail later, but you have to listen to me right now. There is an assassin in the palace somewhere. That rebel group that we have been tracking in the capital—they are a bunch of ex-soldiers and they planted someone named Zhen in the palace. _Months _ago, Zuko—_months_. They are planning to kill Katara, pin it on you somehow and pit you and Aang against each other in a fight. And they're betting on Aang to win. Everyone would lose face and if nothing else, if Katara was murdered the government would be weak enough from the backlash for a group to slip in and cause some serious chaos if not completely take over. I know, I know, it is the most unoriginal plan ever—but there _were_ those rumors about you and Katara a while back, Zuko. Even if Aang doesn't believe them, that doesn't mean that people wouldn't at least be suspicious and that can cause more than enough damage by itself."

"Hm. This plan sounds just stupid enough that someone may get seriously hurt. Let us just hope that it will be the bad guys." Sokka nodded his agreement. Those had been his exact thoughts, as well. "Lord Zuko, will you be contacting Katara and Aang? Can you get them to cancel or at least delay?"

Zuko's eyebrows knit together in concentration as he mulled over the situation. Sokka was grateful that the two men hadn't even questioned him, they had simply reacted and begun brainstorming. "I may be able to get Katara to delay, particularly if Sokka is willing to let her know that he is o.k. for now, but I think I have a better chance of stopping one of Azula's metal drills with my right pinky toe than I have of getting Katara and Aang to cancel their visit." Sokka snorted. So true.

"I suppose that will have to do. I will send word immediately to have two hawks brought up and a message drafted. In the meantime, Sokka, Zuko, please begin thinking of a way to flush this traitor out. If they have been here for months then they have had absolutely too much time to prepare traps or disguise weapons around the palace. We must be careful and no one should be alone at any time for _any _reason. You will both remain here until we know how to proceed. Zuko, if it is acceptable with you I will put all meeting on hiatus with the excuse that we are waiting until Sokka returns to health. I will be posting two guards to this room at all times until further notice." Both boys nodded their agreement. Nodding back at them with a sharp jerk of his head, Iroh spun and exited the bedroom, muttering preparations to himself.

Two pairs of eyes watched him leave, staring at the heavily embellished inner door long after it had shut.

"Sooo. Zuko. How's it hangin?"

He sucked in a breath as an angry face with blazing amber eyes suddenly occupied all of the free space in front of his. Two fists slammed into the pillows on either side of his head and hot breath blasted his face in angry puffs as Zuko struggled to keep his anger in check. His body was angled to lean over him, but the fire bender was very, very careful not to let any weight rest on Sokka's injured limbs. Blue eyes widened as Zuko brought his face even closer while his nose twitched as he noticed the plume of smoke that was curling up lazily from the pillows where Zuko's fists connected.

"Don't you ever. Ever. EVER. Worry me like this again. When you cut lessons, did you even remember that the entire palace was going to be gathered for a meeting about the big conference with the Avatar? Do you know the only reason we found you? You got a package from some street vendor, Sokka." Oh, that's right—the present. He distantly wondered what had happened to it. "That's the only reason the maid found all that…all that blood." Zuko's voice got thick and he squeezed his eyes shut. The candles in the room were alternately blazing and sputtering out with every labored breath. Zuko let out a shuddering breath and his whole body seemed to deflate as he tipped his head forward to touch their foreheads. "…If you hadn't gotten that package…I just, Sokka—what _happened_? I was so worried when they said there had been some kind of accident, and when I saw you like that…I just lost it. I've lost so many people in my life Sokka, and then I thought I'd lost my best friend…"

Sokka peered up Zuko's face and smiled as he bumped their heads together gently. "Sorry, buddy. I didn't mean to make you worry." A soft blush lit up Zuko's cheeks as he dipped his head and looked away. They stayed like that for a contented moment.

"Uggh. So tired." Zuko swung his legs up onto the bed and flopped onto his side next to Sokka. After treating his body to luxurious cat-stretch, he settled in with his arms and legs akimbo, earning him a disgusted look from Sokka.

"You're like a dog, Zuko. You can have the whole damn bed and yet you choose the side _I'm_ on." The fire bender responded by snuggling deeper into the covers and burying his face in a fluffy down pillow.

"Don't get too comfy, peasant. This _is_ MY bed and we are on MY side. You are just a guest until you recover. And don't think I will forget about getting all the details about how you got your ass handed to you."

"Aw shucks, Zuko. You have the sweetest pillow talk." All of the recent excitement with Iroh and Zuko had left Sokka feeling weary and exhausted. Despite the two guards that he was certain Iroh had already set in place, he had wanted to remain awake to keep watch. As it was, his eyelids were growing heavy way too quickly. There was something nagging at him, though… something he just needed to figure out…

"Shut up and go to sleep. We need our rest to deal with this situation. And how the hell do you catch an assassin anyway," came the muffled response from the pillow.

"About that. I think I have a plan."

* * *

Final A/N: Yeeeeah, let's crank up the death plots, peeps! **Veritas Vos Liberabit**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. Life called. It wanted me to participate. Also, this is a rather long chapter-about 50% longer than any other so far. Thanks for sticking with it as I am still building up the plot. Also, please forgive any lingering spelling and grammar errors until next time, because…HAPPYHAPPYHAPPY NOTE! I have a motherf*ing Beta. The normal scales of ecstasy are not sufficient to quantify my euphoria. She will be making her debut as my co-pilot next chapter ("Co-pilot" is so much better than "Beta." "Beta" sounds like a bad Microsoft operating system. "Co-pilot" is much more adventurous, like two swashbuckling pirates off to conquer the high seas of Fanfiction and pillage the stormy isles of Plot. Together, we will rule the WORLD. Or at least we'll get shit published quicker.) Class, say "hi" to Sav. Sav, say "hi" to the class.**

**Disclaimer: I own niets, nichts, nada, rien, niente, nothing. WARNING: Cussing. Future BL (boy/boy) lovins. **

**Chapter 4:**

"Absolutely not."

"Why? It's a great plan!" Sokka scowled. His protests were falling on deaf ears. Zuko rolled over to face the other direction and he had a sneaky suspicion that he'd just been dismissed. How annoying—was he honestly not even going to consider it? He struggled into a sitting position and glared down at the shock of black hair on the back of Zuko's head. "Fine. If you can think of a better alternative before I wake up, we'll go with your plan. No questions asked. As an added bonus, I won't even _complain_." Zuko snorted. "BUT—if you can't think of another option before Iroh gets back and it's time to get up, we're doing this _my _way."

There. That sounded firm yet reasonable. It also made it seem like Zuko had a choice. Yeah, right. Zuko couldn't come up with a better plan to save his life—he was more of an action/ reaction kind of guy. While that kind of trait was handy getting out of a pinch _in_ a battle, it didn't really help you with getting _to _that battle in the first place. Caving to immaturity, he stuck his tongue out at Zuko's broad back and collapsed onto the bed. Trying to reason with Zuko was exhausting, and his extra reserves of energy had already been maxed out. Sleep was finally tugging at him only to be snatched away again as Zuko rolled back over with a snarl.

"You can't do that!" He snapped at Sokka.

"I can't what? Sleep? Oh, but I think I can. Why wouldn't you want me to?" He didn't even understand the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. His eyelids felt so heavy that it was a struggle to keep his focus trained on the other boy's face. Ugh, why wouldn't he let him sleep? "Sssshokay Zukoo… I'm lisss…listening…lessh' talk 'bout…" Damn, his tongue felt so thick…and what _were_ they talking about?

"Damn right we're going to talk about it! Sokka, this plan is way too dangerous you're already injured as it is! We can think of another plan _together_, one that doesn't involve…" Sokka nodded sagely as Zuko carried on about—something. Whatever it was, it wasn't important. What WAS important was the nice rhythm Zuko's voice had when he was talking. So soothing…it was like velvet, all soft and gentle, putting Sokka to sleep. He smiled as his whole body began to hum in time with the timbre of his voice. Feeling peaceful and safe for the first time that day, he fell asleep with the feeling of being wrapped in a velvet blanket.

* * *

He was floating on a pleasant bed of clouds far above the heavens. When he looked down through the crack in the haze, he could see all four nations spread out below him. The feeling of being up so high was invigorating and terrifying at the same time. He felt like his entire body was charged with energy from the very clouds themselves, power prickling on his skin and electrifying him. Countless mortal lives moved around on the surface beneath him. It would have been so easy to reach out and grasp something, change it, mold it, relish the feeling of _life_. He looked up as the spirit closed the parted clouds with a gentle wave of the hand and smiled at him, delighted. Smiling back, he rolled onto his side with only a little protest from his stiff muscles. He released a little sigh of happiness as his body sank into the soft cloud, as ghostly hands soothed away some of the pain in his spine. Fluffy nebula had begun to drift past him like the currents of a river when a sudden sense of unease gripped him, causing him to become instantly alert. There was a distinctly ominous presence somewhere.

Cracking his eyes open he found the source of the bad aura in the form of a giant pair of knees. Right there. In front of his face. He was pretty sure that somewhere they attached to an angry firebender. Following the knees up to the torso with his eyes, he hesitated a moment before glancing at the face. Hoo boy, bad decision. His first instinct was to scoot back a couple feet, but he was pretty sure Zuko was like some insane predator that could smell fear. Best to just play either dead or dumb. Preferably, without ending up really dead.

"Good morning, sunshine." Gah, judging from that look, sarcasm was _not_ helping. "Did I fart in my sleep or something?" he asked in his perkiest voice. There, that was better—he needed create a diversion. Whatever Zuko was pissed about now did not look like it was going to be a short argument. "Because really, you did hang with Toph for a while, so y-"

"Not a good morning, Sokka. Bad morning. It's only three a.m. and I haven't slept at all, thanks to you. And frankly, I have absolutely no desire to ever be reminded again of Toph's…nighttime gastric issues. Never. You cannot go through with this plan."

"Uh, come again?" This conversation was not starting off on the right foot. First of all, if they were talking about Sokka's assassin-catching scheme, the plan was freaking brilliant. Second of all, why the HELL were they discussing this at _3 a.m._? "I think I'm a little confused. Does that mean that you've come up with a better plan? Because if you have, I'm all ears." Zuko's eyebrows shot together in a frown and lips pulled back a little as he gritted his teeth. Sokka felt guilty for being so snarky, but this was a ridiculous conversation to be having in the wee hours of the morning.

"No," Zuko ground out. "I haven't come up with anything—_yet_. But I _will_. And in the meantime, as Fire Lord, I ORDER you to abandon this plan."

"Listen Zuko, we can talk about this later. I'm not talking about this right now. I'm so exhausted I could vomit, not to mention I feel like shit and I'm probably going to vomit anyway. Go to sleep."

"I can't! I tried to talk to you about this earlier, but you fell asleep! How do expect ME to sleep when I know if I don't think of something you're going to go through with some plan that's going to get you killed?" The pitch of his voice was rising with every sentence that fell out of his mouth. Zuko had uncrossed his arms and had begun gesturing wildly to emphasize his words. Sokka knew if he didn't calm him down soon, the guards were going to bust in there and then _nobody_ would be getting any sleep at all in the foreseeable future.

Without thinking, he made an executive decision to shut Zuko up and the consequences be damned. Despite his muscles screaming in protest, he shot his arms and legs out and latched onto Zuko like an octopus. With an unmanly shriek, the dark haired boy was dragged down to the mattress and sucked under the covers like a creature being dragged into the lair of a sea monster. Sokka tightened his arms into steel bands as the firebender struggled against him, careful to restrict any movements that could result in him turning a bit crispy. "Sleep now. Argue later. Promise." Burying his nose in his friend's thick brown hair, he sucked in a huge breath and let it out in a happy exhale. Sleepy time! Zuko smelled spicy, like everything in the Fire Nation. He also smelled sweet like cinnamon or something though, and Sokka was murmuring happily to himself when Zuko turned stiff. The happy murmurs faded to disappointed grumbles as the other boy's body became about as giving as a wooden plank.

"Um, Sokka, you can let go. I'll-I'll be going to sleep now." Zuko's voice had taken on a strangely timid quality, almost hoarse. Sokka dismissed it, way too tired to try and figure it out. All that mattered was that Operation Super Sonic Squid of Sleep was working and for whatever reason, Zuko was dropping the argument though he had no doubts that it was only a temporary truce. Man, his friend was so warm it was almost uncomfortable.

"Mm. Na, I'm super comfy. If anyone walks in, you can just tell them I thought you were my old stuffed polar-walrus Mr. Fifi Cuddly Lumps, and you couldn't pry me off." Sokka mumbled into the side of Zuko's head. It had now become almost hot under the covers, but Sokka was too tired to move. "Now relax, or I might think you don't like being around me." If possible, Zuko's body got even stiffer.

"I can't sleep being all clingy. I'll get a panic attack." Zuko argued desperately. Man, it really seemed like it _was _making him anxious. Sokka sighed.

"Fine. Whatever. Just go to sleep. And turn off the lights, will you?" He released him and Zuko shot as far away as he could without falling off the bed. What a weirdo. Earlier, he'd been just fine right up next to Sokka. Oh well, as long as they could finally pass out he didn't care if Zuko slept on the roof. The candles dimmed to nothing then extinguished as Zuko winked them out into darkness. The only remaining light came from the open terrace, where he watched until the dancing shadows lulled him to sleep.

"Sokka-"

"WHAT what what what _what_?"

"Did you really have a polar-walrus called Mr. Fifi Cuddly Lumps?"

"Good NIGHT." He didn't hear a response for a while and kept waiting until they had both been laying there long enough to be fast asleep. He had almost given up on expecting a response when a quiet "Good night, Sokka" whispered through the dark. His heart fluttered at the way his name sounded in that smoky voice, probably because it was normally spoken along with a healthy dose of exasperation or annoyance. Probably. Whatever the reason, sleep was much longer in claiming him than it had been before.

* * *

Daylight came much sooner than they both wanted. Sun rays danced on Sokka's eyelids and prevented him from lazing about any longer. Groaning, he resigned himself to the dismal fact that they were going to have to actually get up. Blinking slowly at the sleep crusted in his eyes, he grinned as he realized that sometime during the early morning hours Zuko had decided that he didn't mind spooning after all. They were both lying on their sides and the older boy's back was snuggled up to Sokka. Sitting up and adjusting his weight to rest on his elbow, he leaned over the other boy to take a peek at his face.

Zuko's scar shimmered softly in the morning sunlight. At the angle at which Sokka was looking down at him, the burn mark looked almost translucent. How strange that he had an inexplicable urge to trace this grisly reminder of Zuko's tortured past with his fingertips. There weren't many opportunities to see the Fire Lord so unguarded—his position did not allow him to show any form of weakness. It was sad on some level that he had been raised in a family that had scorned any sign of weakness and he had risen above it, yet he had ultimately chosen a path in life where he had to endure the exact same thing—all for the good of others. Sokka could make out a few faint lines in between his brows where he carried much of the everyday tension of his position. Damn. He was way too young to have these sorts of worry lines already. A fierce, overprotective feeling swelled up in him as he observed the firebender's face relaxed in sleep. His was breathing softly through his mouth, with one hand curled beneath his chin and the other under his cheek. Zuko looked so innocent and vulnerable, such a difference from his typical bossy self that it struck Sokka how beautiful his pale friend was, despite his scar. Had he never really looked at him this closely before? A funny feeling started squirming in his stomach.

He wanted to see Zuko's relaxed face more. He didn't want him to have to shoulder the peace of the nation while neglecting his own needs. Zuko needed someone to look out for him—dammit, he needed _Sokka_. At that moment he vowed to do whatever it took to protect Zuko. He was determined to take full responsibility for apprehending the assassin and his rebels, no matter what objections Zuko had to his plan. He didn't know where these feelings were coming from and why they were so strong but he knew that he wanted Zuko to depend on him and _just_ him, although that was an impractical desire.

In the meantime, the hour was long past due that princess here woke up. Snickering, he glanced around a pulled a feather from where the pin was poking out of a pillow. Very lightly, he began to tickle Zuko under the nose. The firebender scrunched up his face and swiped with the back of his hand before settling it again with his fingers curled against his lips. Wow. Sokka blushed—he was as cute and innocent-looking as a little kid. There was no way he could hold back his teasing at this point. Smirking broadly now, Sokka leaned farther so that their faces were a few inches away from each other and began to tickle under his chin. Amber eyes snapped open and Sokka had just opened his mouth to say, "Good morning," when abruptly, Zuko wasn't there anymore. Flabbergasted, he looked around for the missing firebender. Moments later, Sokka heard crashing noises coming from the floor next to the bed accompanied by a strange assortment of sparks and tongues of flame that lit up above the canopy. Dragging himself by his forearms to peer over the side of the bed, he propped his arms up on the edge and cradled his chin in his hands.

Zuko was flailing around on the floor, tangled in the sheet he had ripped off when he had made his none-too-graceful exit. Sokka pursed his lips while meticulously studying his nails, and said in a deadpan voice "You know, this isn't exactly the way I'd normally like the person I'm sharing a bed with to react when they see me in the morning, but it _is _entertaining. I see the merits. I can't say I disliked the fireworks, although it _is_ a little early for them don't you think?" Zuko stopped thrashing around and Sokka raised an eyebrow at the lumpy sheet and shifted his cheek onto his palm. "Are you better now?"

"Yes," came the sullen reply from the floor. "Sorry. You just—startled me." Riiiight. Why was Zuko acting so weird, anyway? Did he really look that bad in the morning? He probably did. His bruises were fading to a motley palette of sick green and yellow, and had begun swelling as they healed—he probably looked like a cabbage cart wreck. Apparently it was a necessary evil, since he had heard the healers saying was a positive sign. But still, it wasn't like he had the plague! Trying to shrug off the irritable mood before it ruined his entire day he physically shook his head back and forth to clear his thoughts. Regrouping, he looked back down at Zuko who had started fighting with the impossibly tangled sheet again. "You know, you can get off the floor now," he said, bemused.

Zuko made a pitiful noise. "I can't. I'm stuck." Grinning again and sensing his mischievous mood returning, he leaned down and grasped the sheet firmly. With one solid yank, the sheet fluttered into the air and back on the bed and Zuko's surprised form managed a very acrobatic spin in mid-air before he face-planted onto the cold tile. With a yelp he jumped up, shivering.

Glaring at Sokka who was rolling around on the bed in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, he muttered angrily to himself and stomped off towards the door. Sokka caught something about a bath and breakfast and finding Iroh mixed in with various death threats and promises to char Sokka's scrawny ass. Letting his laughter fade away, he watched fondly as Zuko peered out the door and spoke softly with one of the guards on post. Before he knew it, their room was crawling with various attendants who came and went, bringing breakfast or news. Iroh joined them shortly before they were finished eating and Sokka took the opportunity to fill him in on the plan as well as to finally relay all of the events that had led up to Sokka's injuries.

"I see. This is very troublesome indeed. A blonde haired man, you say? That one should not be difficult to track down, although it is likely that they have either disguised his appearance by now or are hiding him away altogether. I am saddened that a former member of our own military is acting in such a reckless manner. It is good that you discovered this information Sokka, I just hope that the price has not been too high." They all paused a moment. Sokka could tell from Zuko's face that he was recalling the moments in the bathroom, when Sokka's life had been hanging in the balance. "Regarding your plan, Sokka—it is surely dependent on quite a number of things going just right, but it is not a bad plan at all. However, are you sure you will be well enough? I am only concerned with your health, but if you feel you are up for it, I trust your judgment and can have no objections. I am _sure_ my nephew agrees." Iroh said pointedly as he paced in front of the small temporary breakfast table they had set up against one wall. Zuko, who had been unusually quiet throughout Sokka's story, glared down at the floor and jutted out his chin.

"Up for what? How is our patient doing today? I trust you haven't been pushing yourself _too_ much, Sokka." The Water Tribe woman smiled kindly as the trio of healers entered the room. "We've got a lot of work to do today, so I hope you're not planning on doing anything crazy. We can have you up and fully running in two weeks for the Avatar's party, but no sooner than that, dear." As she spoke, she helped Sokka move from his seat at the table to a position on the side of the bed. They would work on healing him first before doing any rehab exercises to get his stiff and unused muscles back up to snuff.

"Sweet. I knew I could count on you, Shuu. Won't you reconsider leaving that husband of yours and marrying me? You know they say there's just something about younger men," Sokka gave her his biggest shit-eating grin and yelped when she yanked his bandages a little harder than necessary.

"Oh you. You've been hanging around that Iroh too much. Be good or I'll have to tell your father on you." Shuu answered in a gruff voice, but she could barely conceal her pleased grin at the younger man's words.

Zuko leapt up from his seat. "No. I can't listen to this anymore. Are you all CRAZY? Iroh, you need to tell him that this isn't going to work. He can't do it. I mean, two weeks is insane, he's too banged up right now and there's no way he'd be ready to go through with this hare-brained plan. He's going to get himself killed, Sokka—you're gonna get yourself killed, dammit!"

Sokka sighed. They had been having the same argument all morning before Iroh had arrived, and Sokka was getting tired of being treated like a helpless invalid. "Zuko, I don't know how many times I need to tell you, this plan will _work_. It may depend on-" he stopped short as he realized a dozen interested ears were tuned in to their argument. It wouldn't be good if his plan became public knowledge, he'd have to watch what he said. "—it may depend on a lot of things, but you and I both know you can't come up with a better plan. Remember what I said last night? That we'd do this _my_ way if you couldn't come up with another option?"

Zuko's face took on a desperate look as he began stalking around the free space between Sokka, the healers and Iroh. All the healers moved back a step as the room became noticeably warmer. Zuko had certainly matured, but his temper was still legendary. Only Iroh stood his ground, standing with his hands behind his back and no expression on his face. Shoving a hand through his hair, Zuko made a frustrated noise before steeling his face in determination. Pointing at the Water Tribe teen, Sokka was surprised he didn't see licks of flame coming out the corners of his mouth as he ground out his words. "I swear to every spirit that ever graced the four nations—I will _literally _chain you to this bed." Sokka winced a little as the tic in Zuko's eyebrow turned into a full-on twitch. If he was a betting man, he'd say that Zuko was dead serious about making good on his threat.

"Nephew. It may not be the most appealing plan, but it is our only choice. I also want to remind you that Sokka is a grown man and he is your _friend_, you need to respect his decisions." Zuko stopped stalking around the room and whirled to face his uncle. Incoherent sounds emerged from his mouth as he sputtered, clearly at a loss for words. The red in his face was deepening and Sokka was worried that if he didn't breathe soon he'd start to turn purple. Though maybe if he passed out right now that wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen. It might even be a good thing.

"You-he-how the hell can you be on his side? You were supposed to back _me_ up and tell him what a horrible plan this is!" He shoved a hand through his hair again and looked at Iroh with such a pitiful face that even Sokka almost caved.

"Zuko, what do you want me to do? Sokka and I are both trying to look out for the peace of the nations and for _you_. He is an Ambassador as well as your friend, and I should not need to remind you that he stood with the _Avatar _during the war—you need to keep this in your mind! Sokka has already considered what would happen to this country if you were hurt or killed so please consider this, yourself! You cannot rebuild this country effectively if you try to shoulder everything on your own and fail to acknowledge the capabilities and strengths of your own Counsel members." Zuko's mouth snapped shut and the puppy dog eyes melted into a murderous glare between the two men opposing him. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he huffed out a frustrated sigh and flumped down on the foot of the bed.

"So…Iroh. How can we coordinate with Katara and begin making preparations? We've got a lot of work to do to get what we need ready and not much time-"

"Argh!" Zuko jumped back off the bed, "Sokka, why are you doing this to me? I don't like this plan. It's way too dangerous! You have been conscious for less than _one_ _day_!"

Sokka snapped. He'd been content with letting Iroh attempt to reason Zuko, but enough was enough—they were just beating their heads against a stone wall. "Stop being ridiculous Zuko. I am not some five year old child or some Fire Nation peon that you can just order around. I am here to work _with _you, not _for_ you. I will also not be told to sit at home like a good little boy and look pretty and smile while my sister, the peace of the four nations, your country and _you_ are all in danger. Now frankly, at this point, I don't give a rat's asshole if you like the plan or not. Either you come up with a better one, shut up and help us, or get the hell out. If you argue _this_ much with your fucking ambassadors, it's no wonder you fought so much with Mai." Dead silence followed his outburst. Sokka regretted the words the minute they fell from his lips.

The look on Zuko's face melted from anger to hurt just a moment before an empty mask shuttered down over his expressions. Shutting his mouth, Zuko quietly turned around and walked to the entrance to the chamber. He opened his mouth as if to say something before hesitating, "If that is your wish," he finally murmured over his shoulder before slipping out and closing the door gently behind him.

"Zuko, wait—no—" Sokka felt panic grip his chest as his best friend disappeared. He had just said something very, very bad. The last time he'd seen Zuko's face that emotionless had been during the war. That had been years ago and they had been on opposite sides while Zuko was still under the influence of his emotionally abusive father. Shit, how could he have said something that careless—it was just like something Ozai or Azula would have said out of spite. He felt like he'd been dealt a physical blow to the gut—the look on Zuko's face as he had glanced at him over his shoulder made him feel two feet tall. Spirits, he was such an ass. Sokka was worried—worried for his sister, for Aang, even for Iroh, but he was especially worried for Zuko who was obviously just as worried about him. Something indescribably desperate and agonizing gripped him at the thought of hurting or even losing Zuko over such careless words.

He pushed the healers' busy hands away and reached towards the door, bracing his weight on the wooden poster of the bed. Hopping down, he shivered as his feet touched the cool tiles. He made it two steps before his legs collapsed beneath him. His chin caught on an ornamental wooden chest that served absolutely no purpose but to hurt him, and a stream of obscenities escaped as a dozen aides rushed over to where he had landed. He knocked them away as they reached out to help him and tried to drag his body up towards the door.

The female healer from the Fire Nation, Iana he thought her name was, pulled him up by his elbow and dragged him back to lean against the bed. Her grip was surprisingly firm despite his struggling. They continued a quiet battle when out of the blue, Iana slapped him across the face."Stop it!" she shouted as a few of the other attendants gasped and murmured behind their hands, glancing between their faces. Sokka felt like he'd been snapped out of a reverie. No, it was more like a nightmare. Freezing in place, he looked around and flushed when he realized he'd been essentially arm wrestling a grown lady. Iana slowly let his hands go when he stopped resisting and immediately began checking his body for any injuries from his fall. While she wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, she had gentle hands that efficiently scanned his body for further damage. The male healer, Yami, knelt on his other side and held him down with a hand on his shoulder, even though Sokka didn't make any move to try to stand again. Tears pricked his eyes as they attended to him.

"Ambassador Sokka, you can't move right now. You may begin to walk around a little in a couple days, but right now you cannot push yourself. You must stop acting in this manner immediately." Seeing the tears that burned his eyes as he rapidly blinked them back, her tone became slightly gentler, "Please don't make us worry. You both just need to cool off for a moment. He'll be back." The Water Tribe healer looked on at the trio with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. Suddenly even more ashamed of his earlier speech towards Zuko, he flushed and looked away from her. Iroh, who had been quiet throughout Sokka's outburst, sighed and walked over to take a seat by him against the bed.

"Sokka," he began, "Zuko is…temperamental. You of all people probably know this the best. You have seen him at his worst, but you have also seen him at his best. And I know that you _see_ more of him, down within him, than most people ever will in their whole lifetimes. He was a good boy and now he is a good man. You must forgive his overprotective nature Sokka, he loves you very dearly. I care about you too, but I am also aware that you are old enough to make your own decisions, just as he is old enough to make _his_ own."

Sokka let out a deep breath and slumped over to rest his head on Iroh's shoulder. "I know, Iroh. I care about him a lot, too. He's a really great guy. He also just happens to be really good at channeling his inner jackass, sometimes."

The older man patted his crown and chuckled. "Yes, my nephew was also like this with Mai. I am surprised that she put up with him for so long." His chuckle got deeper, "Although it certainly is interesting."

Sokka tilted his head from Iroh's shoulder with a questioning look. "What's interesting, Iroh?"

"Oh, nothing really. It just seems that my nephew is much more protective of you than he ever was of Mai. He certainly never threatened to chain her to the bed. The bond between friends must run very deep indeed." A blush lit up Sokka's cheeks, but he wasn't really sure why. The way Iroh was talking it just seemed like he should be embarrassed about something.

"Well…he is a really good friend, I guess. But I don't see why he'd need to chain me to the bed," Sokka said petulantly. Apparently Yami and Shuu were in on Iroh's little inside joke, because they began tittering behind their hands. Glaring at them, he opened his mouth to ask what was so funny before thinking better of it and snapping it closed. He hated being left out of a joke, and it was unusual for him to be so slow to catch on. Maybe this one was best left untouched. Besides, there were plans to make and he really felt like throwing himself into a project. He needed a distraction so that he wouldn't give in to the urge to try and follow Zuko again. Plus, even though he felt guilty for his outburst, he wasn't going to back down now. Giving in to Zuko once was basically signing over your free will—he had a heart of gold, but he could be a steamroller when he thought he was in the right. Particularly if it concerned someone he cared about. So, it was best to pick and choose your battles wisely and this definitely counted as one of those occasions.

"Whatever. You all be creepy adults while I get back to brainstorming. Iroh, are you going to help me or not?" Back to business, the sooner he got this over with the sooner he could track down his absent firebender. Their planning should give him enough time to calm down, and for Sokka to think of the best spanking apology in the human world AND the spirit world. The thought of his sensitive Zuko sulking somewhere caused a physical pang in his chest. Wait a minute, what was with this "his" Zuko? He really must have been spending too much time around Iroh. After he was healed up and they had caught the assassin, he really needed to drag Zuko out for a celebratory night on the town with a few ladies. He got a goofy look on his face as he imagined a night of drinking with a few lovely Fire Nation ladies serving him and Zuko drinks, fawning over them all night for saving the country—again. The goofy smile disappeared though, as the thought of the girls hanging over Zuko caused an irrational sense of irritation. No, Zuko wouldn't want those girls hanging all over him; it had better just be the two of them.

"Sokka, did you hear me?" Iroh repeated patiently. Oh no! He had been daydreaming the entire time Iroh had been talking! Here he was, demanding that they get to work but immediately spacing out, himself.

"I think Ambassador Sokka has had enough excitement for the day, don't you Shuu?" Iana glanced up at the older healer and smiled. "Poor thing is probably still exhausted. You had better get some rest before jumping back into your work. I've already prepared his meal specially—it should contain what he needs to help him gain back some strength." The last bit was directed towards Iroh, who nodded gratefully. Strangely, Sokka caught a dirty glare on Yami's face towards Iana. Although no words were spoken to that effect, the two had been quietly at odds the entire time they had been working with him that morning.

"Perhaps Ambassador Sokka should have some food brought from the kitchen. I hear that the meal today is quite nutritious and I have already ordered my errand boy to retrieve a plate for him." Yami kept glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Iana the entire time he spoke.

Shuu responded before anyone else could open their mouths. "Nonsense, Yami. It will be safer if we prepare the meals ourselves. Do you really think these assassins have given up on him? He knows what they look like." Shuu was firm in her decision and crossed her arms in a way that brooked no arguments.

"She is right, Yami. Iana—are you sure it is no trouble to prepare the meal yourself? We would also be greatly appreciative of your kindness." Iroh took her hands in his and leaned toward her with a charming smile. She giggled and blushed in a lovely shade of pink at his flirtatious manner. Urgh, was that really how he had started acting these days? He needed to watch out before he became a pervy old man just like Iroh.

"Um, General Iroh sir, it's no problem," she paused and looked at Yami uncertainly, who was glaring at her more openly now, "It's no problem, but I am happy to take turns…if that is what the other healers prefer..." She seemed to shrink a bit under the heavy gaze.

"Not a problem." Yami replied curtly. "I am happy to help in any way to restore Ambassador Sokka to health."

Iroh beamed. "Excellent! Sokka, you must eat and rest. We will begin our plans tonight. Please do not stress yourself too much—you will only make my nephew worry even more. And do not worry about Zuko—he will not stay away for long, it is not in his nature." Sokka felt a tiny bit of relief at Iroh's words. He did know his nephew very well after all, and if he thought that Zuko wouldn't stay mad it was probably true. Iroh laughed deep from his belly and added, "Though it may be fortunate that you had your little spat when you did—you will probably sleep much better while Zuko is not here. He was always so clingy when he slept, even as a child. It was horrible back then—he couldn't regulate his temperature very well and I always woke up with the little leech attached to me, sweatier than a Fire Nation summer day and feeling as dried out as old leather!" Iroh continued laughing and shook his head as he recalled the memory with fondness. Sokka looked at him, confused. Then why the hell had Zuko told him last night that he didn't like touching people in his sleep? He knew something had seemed off. Oh well, either he had changed or he had been overly worried about hurting Sokka in his sleep. Sokka wasn't a bender after all, and he was injured to boot.

He climbed back into bed with the assistance of a few palace helpers. Shortly after, the majority of the crowd that had gathered in the bedchambers had left and he began to settle into the sea of pillows to eat his meal. Iana wasn't the best cook in the world, it was a little too sweet, but he found that despite his recent breakfast he was so hungry that it didn't really matter. Almost immediately after finishing, his eyelids began to droop and the room seemed to gather a slight fuzziness around all of the edges. Lingering anxiety at his recent fight with Zuko was fighting an epic battle with the sleepiness fogging his brain. Ultimately, he was unable to fight the lethargy that had crept into his body.

Whispers reached his ears as his head swam and his mind kept sinking past the bed. A sense of vertigo gripped him and his stomach dropped like it had when Appa had descended too quickly. It felt like sleeping was all he'd been doing these days. "No, no problem. Thank you all for your help, we are very grateful to have healers such as yourselves. I am happy to stay with him until my nephew returns. Go, rest yourselves. It has been a long day." The rest of Iroh's words were lost as Sokka's ears filled with a ringing. He fell into a fitful sleep, full of dark shadows and misshapen figures. The ringing turned to roaring, and it wasn't until it became a low hum that Sokka was able to dream dreams that were filled with urgent whispers and glittering beasts.

**Final A/N: Yes, they fought. No, fighting is not fun. But yes, MAKING UP _is _fun. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge***


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi, friends. Thanks for sticking with the story. I apologize for the delay in updates—we have family in the hospital right now, so things may be a bit spread out for a while. This is the first chapter where Co-Pirate Sav has edited/ contributed. Everyone, please let her know how awesome she is. THANK YOU TO A WONDERFUL PERSON ON YAHOO ANSWERS! WITHOUT THEM, YOU WOULD NOT BE READING THIS CHAPTER. Site has been messed up, email me if you want to find out how to get to your stories to edit them!**

**As a side/ personal note (please feel free to skip): I feel the need to address one recurring aspect of this story that is very important to me on a personal level—Sokka's obliviousness. Yes, I realize I have made him quite oblivious. Yes, many of you living in liberal societies may think this is impossible or outrageous—and in many areas these days, it certainly may be. However, these feelings and thoughts are based on my own personal experiences "coming out" in the conservative South—which did not happen until I was in **_**college**_**. I hope that most of you understand that in a society where this type of thing is not addressed (and I certainly never saw evidence that it was addressed in the canon TV show), it takes a long time, a lot of confusion, and yes, a lot of obliviousness, before you realize that liking the same sex is even an **_**option**_**. This is the POV that I imagine Sokka is coming from, at least in this story. Thank you for understanding!**

**Co-Pirate's Notes: Hmmm, nothing more to add other than the author has spent a lot of time on this for you lovely readers and I feel you should respect that. Criticism is always welcomed, as long as it's constructive and polite. **

**Disclaimer: Me no own no-thing. **

Sokka rolled over. As he slowly woke up, his dreams became a mess of jumbled fragments that slipped past his reach. The harder he tried to hold on to them, the more his head hurt. The pounding in his head was enough to make him see stars in the back of his eyelids. Adding to the parade of agonies assaulting his senses, there was a deafening sound scraping against his ear drums. It sounded like Toph had set up shop somewhere and was dancing around splitting rocks for fun and giggles. Sitting up groggily, he scrubbed at his face and peered through squinted eyes. Iroh was collapsed in a chair near the bed, snoring up a storm and out like a light. Hello, source of ear-splitting agony. Glancing around, he noticed the late sun slanting through the window. It wasn't yet evening, but it was definitely well into the afternoon. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror that was propped up against the wall behind Iroh. Minus the fact that he was starting to look a bit like a cabbage cart wreck, Sokka was practically giddy that his face no longer resembled a human hamburger. The nap had left his body feeling surprisingly strong and refreshed. Shuu and the other healers had made some amazing progress in such a short time since he'd come back around—very impressive, to say the least. It was no wonder that they were considered the best in the area. He grinned to himself; as good as his healers had been, Katara was better. Except that half the time she berated him so much for getting hurt in the first place, that he almost wished she'd go ahead and put him out of his misery.

Lifting his arm, he sniffed and drew a face—damn, he needed a bath. His teeth felt fuzzy, too. At this rate he'd probably be able to take out a whole herd of full grown saber-tooth moose lions. He swung his legs to the ground and waited for his equilibrium to recover as a wave of dizziness gripped him. After a moment or two, his vision settled down and he was able to stand up. He was still a little shaky in the knees, but he felt exponentially better than he had before. A few experimental steps later, Sokka was enormously pleased with the results. With an inward celebratory battle cry, he marched on towards the bathroom. When he entered he had to pause for a moment of silence at the utterly absurd size of Zuko's bathtub. What was the point of bathing in a swimming pool?

Shaking his head, he went about the task of removing all the sweat and grime he had been accumulating while convalescing.

While he bathed, he thought long and hard. There were so many things that had him worried; Zuko, the assassin, his sister, even the simple task of making a full recovery. When he thought about these things, it seemed like there was an almost insurmountable number of obstacles. Sokka needed to find a starting point, to tackle the things he could_ now_, and worry about the rest later. One glance at his grimy clothes gave him his first goal of the day: retrieve fresh clothing from his room. Even a street urchin wouldn't be caught dead in what he had just dropped on the floor; he had practically _marinated_ in those clothes. He wasn't sure what all had been brought over from his room, but it was no surprise that his wardrobe hadn't exactly been a priority as of late.

The worries he carried involving his sister, the assassin, and part of his concern over Zuko all came down to finding the identity of the assassin as soon as possible. Things had already been set in motion, but Sokka was a man of action. He wasn't going to just sit around and trust that everything would fall into place. If he could find the bad guy and the rebels before the big party for the Avatar, he'd be damned if he wasn't at least going to try. Recalling the conversation he had overheard from the rebels, he strained to remember details. It made his head hurt and his ears ring, but Sokka squinted his eyes and tried harder.

The assassin had been put into place months ago. That meant that he could eliminate any potential suspects that had begun working at the palace outside of a…let's see, 10 month to 1 month past range. He would need to find out how to go about identifying those individuals who fit that description, and how he could go about interviewing each one. Since it seemed that most of the staff that started at the same time tended to form a clique, it made sense to interview everyone—both male and female—in the event that someone may have noticed something strange about one of their coworkers. He was just going to have to hope that if Zhen happened to be among those he interviewed, there would be some inconsistency or some slip-up and he could wrap up this part of the rebel problem sooner rather than after it was too late. Even when they captured Zhen (and he was determined it would be 'when' and not 'if') they would need to do something about smoking out the rest of the group.

Sokka nodded to himself and relaxed his shoulders. He felt better now that he knew he was going to be taking some action, but he was still absolutely lost on what to do about his fight with Zuko. His friend hadn't returned while he was sleeping, not that Sokka was particularly surprised. If he had been on the receiving end of such harsh words and in such a public setting, he sure wouldn't be crawling back to his friend any time soon either. It was up to him to make amends.

Too bad a beer and a nice slab of meat wouldn't work. It warmed his own heart just thinking about it. He'd just have to come up with something else while he spoke to the palace staff about getting some food in his stomach.

Wrinkling his nose at the prospect of having to put back on his sweaty, dirty clothes from earlier, he slipped on the pants with a healthy dose of reluctance and decided to raid Zuko's closet for a loaner. Tiptoeing back out, he mouthed a silent 'thanks' again to the healers when it seemed that the strength that had returned to his legs wasn't just a fluke. He padded across the room and looked around for a wardrobe. Frowning, he peered around every corner and eyeballed every piece of furniture. The room was totally devoid of any sort of trunk or closet or even a pile of dirty clothes. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a thin door nestled between a small wall-table and a tapestry. On a whim, he opened it.

Hot damn! There certainly were perks to being the Fire Lord. This wardrobe wasn't even a wardrobe…it was a shrine to Fire Lord clothing. It made Zuko's ridiculous bathroom pale in comparison—it was positively _gargantuan_. And surprise, surprise—there were only about four different outfits. He almost felt sorry…for the freaking tailors. He could barely patch up his own pants, having to make this many of the same shirt would have surely made him suicidal.

He shook his head and made his way past the formal wear towards Zuko's more casual training outfits. Picking one at random, he caught a glimpse of something to his right. There was a small cluster of rather…unique robes shoved towards the back. Doing a double take, his cheeks blew out and he had to swallow a guffaw—no wonder Zuko favored the other four or five outfits, if _this _was what he had to choose from! Some of the clothes were utterly hilarious. Grinning broadly, he pictured himself spending endless hours teasing Zuko mercilessly. Sokka's smile faded.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he quickly shucked his pants and shrugged on the pair of loose trousers, undershirt and the tunic that he had pilfered from the closet. They were all a little baggy since Zuko was a bit taller and broader around the shoulders, but after fiddling with the cinch and belt he was able to keep anything from falling down or off. He returned to the room and contemplated Iroh's sleeping figure. He could either wake the old man up, or he could grab one of the guards to accompany him to his room. The decision was almost instantaneous.

The problem was—how did he wake up Iroh? He certainly couldn't goof around with him like he did with Zuko. A brilliant plan flashed into his mind. After a brief word with the guard at the door and a short five-minute wait, Sokka made his way back over to Iroh with his magical elixir. Wafting the jasmine tea under Iroh's nose was like watching the Unagi scent blood in the water. It was almost scary when Iroh's eyes snapped open.

"Aaaah, Jasmine Tea! Sokka, you know how to make this old man happy!" Iroh closed his eyes and breathed in the gentle fumes deeply.

"It's your reward Uncle Iroh, for sleeping on the job." Iroh had the decency to look a bit chagrined, but he took the cup of tea anyway. Sokka smiled. "You probably needed that nap as much as I did, huh? So…Zuko didn't come back at all while I was asleep, did he." It was more of a statement than a question, and Iroh glanced at Sokka before shaking his head minutely.

"No. He did not. But give him time, Sokka. This has been very stressful on you both."

"Yeah, I know." Sokka couldn't keep all of the gloom out of his reply. "I just wish I could wave a hand and everything would be o.k. again." He got up and walked to the balcony while Iroh finished his tea. They shared a companionable silence for a few minutes before Iroh got up and joined him. They stood side by side looking out on the palace grounds.

"I see you are feeling much better. You must thank the healers for such quick work. Please take care not to push yourself." Sokka nodded his agreement. He filled Iroh in on his thoughts from earlier, and Iroh agreed to accompany him on his errands. His only condition was that Sokka had to take it easy as much as needed and would rest immediately upon feeling fatigued. After making a few arrangements to meet with the Head of Palace Staff, they set out for Sokka's room. Although he knew they were necessary, Sokka couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the two guards that trekked behind them shadowing their every move. They were friendly guys, but it seriously felt like they had stalkers—he could now appreciate Aang's pain of dealing with his fan club wherever he went.

Leaving the two guards posted at the door, Iroh and Sokka entered the room. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but Sokka was a little disconcerted to find his room in perfect order. It was like nothing had happened at all. Iroh walked over to the bathroom, assuring Sokka he would be right back and Sokka gave him an absentminded nod before turning away. He wandered into the middle of the chamber and crouched down, frowning. Fragments of memory from that agonizing night flashed back into his memory. Searching the floor with his eyes, Sokka wasn't really sure what he was looking for, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was missing.

His room was smaller than Zuko's but comfortable. He had really tried to bring a little bit of the Water Tribe with him when he had joined the Fire Lord's counsel, and his decorations reflected this. Pelts and handmade rugs were scattered around on the ground. His armor was polished and resting in a trunk decorated with Water Tribe paintings that depicted legends and myths that had been passed down for generations. Tapestries and cloth in silver, black, brown and myriad shades of blue hung from the walls, making the room an oasis from the blinding red that dominated most of the Fire Nation rooms. Sokka's heart settled a little. The familiarity of these surroundings that reminded him of home had a calming effect. He sat back on his heels.

Sokka was about to stand back up when he noticed something half-tucked under the bed. It was a small package wrapped in a silky red gray cloth. Crawling forward on his hands and knees, he picked it up and studied it. There were two series of twine ties wrapped around the cloth, securing it tightly. Picking at the knots until they loosened, he pulled the string off and let the cloth slip off. The cool material glided past his fingers and he found himself looking down at the silver arm band. It must have been thrown to the side in the mayhem. The amber eyes of the dragon seemed to wink at him while he cupped it in his hands. This little trinket had set off the entire chain of events, if he really thought about it.

He had mixed feelings about the events it had set into place. On the one hand, he never would have found out about the rebels if he hadn't been chasing the old lady. On the other hand, he wouldn't have had the golden opportunity to learn what true agony felt like if he'd never seen the dragon or the jewelry stand. "I don't know whether to give you to Zuko or to throw you off the balcony." He muttered.

"That would never do." A voice murmured beside his ear.

Whipping around, Sokka dropped the bracelet and went for the short sword he had pilfered from Zuko's collection. His body ached at the quick movement. He was recovering, but there was such a thing as too much too soon. Still on the alert, he crouched low and looked around for the owner of the voice. There was no one.

Iroh chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. Fiddling with his belt and singing happily to himself, he skidded to a halt when he saw Sokka. They froze in place and stared at each other for a moment. "Sokka," Iroh said cautiously, "perhaps you are not feeling well. Maybe you should put the sword down?"

Flushing with embarrassment, Sokka released his death grip on the sword. He was becoming _way _too paranoid. Recalling what he had been doing, he snatched the bracelet off the floor and re-wrapped it in the cloth. He pocketed it quietly.

"Sorry, Iroh. Just thought I heard something." He gave an awkward laugh. "Guess I'm a little jumpy." Iroh nodded and smiled but Sokka could tell he was a little worried. Sokka turned away and began puttering in his wardrobe, but he wasn't doing much more than pushing the clothes around. He just needed a second to look away from Iroh and think. He could have sworn he wasn't imagining things. Sokka was almost positive he'd really heard a voice just then. Mechanically, he started to go around gathering his things, stuffing them into a seal-hide pack. He almost cried in relief when he found his stash of candied sea prunes. Popping one in his mouth, he was chewing happily and snagging a few last-minute items when one of the guards slipped in and whispered something to Iroh. Sokka watched surreptitiously as Iroh frowned. After a moment he nodded and dismissed the guard. Quickly shoving in a last item -a stone and soft cloth for sharpening swords, he made a bee-line for the old general.

"What's up, Iroh? Something going on?" He mumbled around another candied sea prune.

"Well Sokka, it seems we miscalculated." Sokka's blood froze cold. "There may not be enough jasmine tea for all of our guests at the party." His eyes rolled before he could stop them. He had been seriously freaked out for a second there. "Oh, and it seems like the young Fire Lord may be a little angrier than we originally suspected. He has made some slight…modifications to the guard detail." Sokka coughed to keep from choking as the prune he'd been swallowing caught in his throat.

"What changes?" He gasped out between the powerful thumps Iroh was giving his back.

"Ah yes, well it seems he has decided that it would be in the best interest of both safety and security if you were to remain here in your room with a separate guard. He believes the assassin will have a more difficult time if two of the prime targets are not in the same location. Sokka, you need to speak to him before you two travel any farther down this path. A small seed can take root and grow into a worrisome weed if one does not take care of it." Sokka had been only half-listening. Iroh's earlier words going in circles through his head. His body ran hot and cold. He couldn't tell if he was furious or terrified for his friendship.

Without a word, Sokka abruptly turned away from Iroh. Yanking open the door, he dropped his sack at the entrance beside one of the guards. In a tightly controlled voice, he asked one to take his bag to Zuko's room. Turning his attention to the other guard, he asked politely to be escorted to where the Fire Lord was currently working. The guards shared an uncertain glance before reluctantly doing as he had asked.

The walk to the wing of the palace with the conference and gathering rooms was tense and silent. Sokka was peripherally aware of Iroh following behind. After what seemed like ages, they finally arrived and Sokka breathed a sigh of relief. It was hard to keep up this tough act when his body was starting to ache. It was still only the second day and he had already moved around so much—he knew he would be feeling this later. The attendant at the door entered before them and announced their presence. They walked in on what seemed like an impromptu meeting of political and economic advisors. Sokka recalled that Zuko had probably let a lot of work and worries accumulate while attending Sokka. He exchanged curt nods with the other advisors. Everyone seemed to wear identical signs of stress, likely due to increased burdens of duties they were all shouldering for the time being.

They were all gathered around a large wooden table with various papers, documents, quills and the like scattered around. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Zuko stared at him with no expression and raised an eyebrow as if to say 'Yes? What brings _you_ here?' Sokka wanted to wipe that look off his face. That was the look he gave strangers. And small, annoying children.

"Fire Lord Zuko? A private word with you, please?" he spoke through his teeth as he smiled tightly. He could feel his face stretching and aching. From the horrified looks on Zuko the advisors, it was probably stretching out some of his bruises in fairly gruesome ways. It was a miracle the skinny little economics and planning advisor from the third district hadn't gagged or something yet—he seemed to have a rather weak constitution.

"By all means, Ambassador Sokka. I am certain I'll be very happy to speak with you, although as you can see we are rather busy at the moment. Is it something you can share with us all right now?" Zuko's eyes seemed to challenge him. Sokka sucked in a breath and mustered up all of the false politeness he had in his meager arsenal.

"I do apologize, Fire Lord Zuko. I realize you are a very busy man. A very important man. I'm so sorry I had to demand a moment of your time like this. We can certainly discuss this in front of your advisors if you truly wish—although it is a delicate matter." He made his way over to Zuko, who nodded and pointedly looked back down at the stack of maps depicting some of the outer villages that was lying in front of him. "I wasn't aware that you were so comfortable with your advisors knowing about that time when you and Toph had that competition after eating those Fire Chili spiced beans—I mean, I can still remember the sound of-" Zuko's eyes flew wide open. He shot out of his chair and slapped a hand across Sokka's mouth.

"Thank you, gentlemen. This was a very productive day. Unfortunately, I think our friend Sokka here must be a little tired from pushing himself so hard. I'll see to it that he is taken care of. In the meantime, we should all retire for the rest of the afternoon and regroup tomorrow. Thank you for your hard work." He smiled and nodded his goodbyes as the advisors shuffled out, but he kept his hand firmly clamped on Sokka's mouth. Sokka smirked underneath Zuko's warm fingers. Soon enough, it was just Iroh, three guards and the two of them left in the room. To Sokka's surprise, Zuko didn't move his hand. "Iroh, if it is not too much trouble, do you think you could handle the meeting I have planned with the Inventory and Supplies Committee in half an hour? There are some documents to review in the third conference room regarding grain."

"It would be an honor to assist you, Lord Zuko." Iroh lowered his head then looked back at Sokka's face. His gaze lingered for a moment before he winked and turned, leaving the room abruptly.

"Guards, please wait outside. I would appreciate it if you did not have anyone disturb us while Sokka shares his…concerns."

Within moments they were completely alone. Zuko waited a few seconds after the door had closed before dropping his hand and whirling on Sokka. He blew up. "What the HELL was that about?"

"Oh, I dunno. Just saw your face and thought about some of the good times. I remember there were some other failed experiments with food other than that one. Man, it was hard to live with both you and Toph some days." He idly flicked a paper that had been left behind with his finger.

"That's not what—damn it Sokka, I know what you're here about." Zuko glared at him and stalked around the head of the table. Sokka whistled.

"Well. That's an impressive new skill. Would you call that mind-bending? No, that sounds too much like a night on the town with cactus juice. How about head-bending? Too gruesome?" he flopped into a chair with his arm hanging over the back and sprawled out his legs.

"I'm leaving, Sokka. If you're not even going to take this conversation that _you wanted _seriously, then I have nothing more to say right now."

Zuko jumped in surprise when Sokka slammed his hands on the table. "Do NOT dismiss me like I'm just one of your underlings, Zuko!" he roared. Leaning forward, Sokka stared at him, all traces of humor gone. "You can't just make a decision like that without even ASKING me!"

"Now you know how _I _felt!" Zuko shouted back, getting equally fired up. "Did you really think it was o.k. to just ignore _my _opinion? Doesn't feel very good to be left out, now does it." With an angry swipe, he backhanded a stack of papers and sent them fluttering up into the air.

"Zuko! These are two different things! At least I TOLD you my plans beforehand! I had to find out from IROH! Do you know how much of a damn idiot I felt like when I realized that the _guards_ knew before _I _did?" As they yelled at each other, they had started working their way around the edge of the table until they stood face to face, a few feet apart. Candles were flaring up wildly, adding to the frenzy of their argument.

"Oh, so is _that_ it? Is that the REAL reason you're mad? Because it was someone _else's_ plan? Real mature, Sokka." The heat was rolling off of Zuko. Sokka fisted his hands in the front of his robes and yanked him til there were only inches between them.

"Zuko you fire-bending idiot, that's NOT IT." Sokka was shouting at the top of his lungs. "DAMN IT ZUKO, BEING AWAY FROM YOU HAS BEEN AGONY." Once the words popped out, Sokka snapped his mouth shut. Zuko, on the other hand, couldn't seem to close his and stood there, mouth agape.

Dammit, what the hell was he saying? But it seemed like once he started spewing his emotions like verbal vomit, he couldn't stop. Which was funny, because he hadn't even known his own feelings until about five seconds earlier. Wearily, he dropped his head and loosened his grip on Zuko's front. "Ugh. You just don't get it. Every moment you weren't there, it was torture. I couldn't stop thinking about how something could be happening and I wouldn't even know it. I wouldn't be there to stop it. Then, I get some bullshit message that we're going to go solo! Like, it was so easy for you to just separate yourself, but Zuko I can't—I can't stop worrying about you. Even my plan, all I can think about is how this is the only way I can come up with to try and keep you safe. You just, you mean so much, if anything happened…and there was nothing I could do…I've been an ass and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I guess I was just trying to force you into letting me protect you. I was desperate." He released Zuko completely and collapsed into a chair. Doubled over, he rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands.

Sokka's voice came out shaky but certain. "I really, really care about you. If anything ever happened to you, I would break."

He didn't hear a response for a long time. Just when he thought he may not hear one at all, Zuko let out a immense sigh and he felt rather than saw him when he crouched in front of Sokka's chair. After another moment, Sokka found himself tumbling out of the chair and into a giant hug.

"I better watch out. Stupidity is contagious. I've been an asshole, too. I'm sorry, Sokka. I was doing the exact same thing. I guess we're both overprotective bastards, huh?" Sokka let out a watery chuckle. He was surprised to find that his cheeks were damp. His overwhelming relief had found an outlet as hot tears. They remained kneeling there for a long time, both unwilling to let the moment go too quickly. Zuko's body felt firm and it felt good to hug him. Sokka tightened his arms. Zuko's tightened in response. Their grips were so fierce they were out of breath and it almost seemed like they were in a competition to see who could hold out the longest. They shared a breathless chuckle. "You tool, you're going to break my back." They didn't let go though, and Zuko relentlessly tightened his arms again.

Sokka wasn't sure when the embrace changed, but at some point he was suddenly aware of the intense heat. He couldn't tell if it was coming from himself or from Zuko, but his skin felt like it was on fire wherever they were touching. His face felt hot and he was breathless, but not from being squeezed. Zuko's arms slid lower, down to his waist and Sokka's heart _thumped_. With a jolt, he broke the hug and sprang away. Laughing a little loudly, he sat back on his heels and rubbed the back of his head. "Guess I lost. You've got a tight grip, dude." Anything, anything, anything, they need to talk about _something_ so that Zuko wouldn't see Sokka's momentary distress.

Zuko smirked. "Of course. I train every day. If you came to the lessons more regularly, you'd know that it is a traditional and honorable use of time for royalty to train our bodies and our minds." His eyes got big, "Oh spirits, I didn't hurt you, did I? How are you feeling?" He blinked. Damn. He had totally forgotten about his injuries—he'd been completely swept along by the moment.

"Actually, I'm feeling pretty good." He responded with a certain amount of wonder in his voice. "I'm even walking around fine, today. I think I'll make a full recovery a lot sooner than we had hoped."

"You look like shit." Zuko's voice was frank and monotone.

"You certainly have a way with words. You would never make it as an inspirational speaker."

He shrugged. "I agree. On so many levels."

Sokka felt himself relaxing. Their normal banter was comforting in two ways. One, it meant that things were back to normal between the two of them. They still had some issues to deal with and maybe some compromises to make, but they were communicating. It felt like they were closer to understanding each other's feelings than they had been for a while. It also distracted him from whatever it was that had just happened.

"Oh, I almost forgot. We found Space Sword Junior. Some pawn vendor was trying to hawk it in the streets in one of the cheap districts." The cheap districts were a cluster of districts around the city that were notorious for being places that you could buy high-quality merchandise for suspiciously low prices. Probably due to the fact that most of the items were stolen. Or illegal. Or both. Sokka's gaze sharpened at his words, though.

"Which one?"

"District 3, I think." Sokka nodded and filed the information away for later plotting. If they had sold off his things like the space sword version two that were that conspicuous, they were probably long gone from the area by now—but that wouldn't stop him from looking into it. He stood up and held his hand out to Zuko. The Fire Lord took it gratefully and hopped to his feet. Dusting themselves off, they bumped shoulders. Neither one of them wanted to break contact, and they began to awkwardly pick up the strewn papers while constantly finding ways to 'accidentally' touch each other, as if to reassure themselves that the other boy was still there.

"Spirits! I almost forgot! I um, I got you something." Now that the time had come to finally give his friend his gift, he felt unusually shy about it. He told himself there was absolutely no reason to be—it was just a friend giving a friend a gift. A friend that made his heart thump. Sokka shook his head to clear the tangled thoughts that had just invaded his mind. He couldn't think about that hug without his body feeling hot, and it was frustrating and confusing. Focusing on the present moment, he reached into his tunic and dug out the small gray package.

"By the way, are you wearing my clothes?" Sokka glanced down at himself. He hadn't taken the time to change when he'd been in his room earlier.

"Huh. Yeah, I guess. By the way," he had to swallow back a laugh, "you, um, you planning on giving me a fashion show sometime?" He could barely finish the sentence with a straight face. From the horrified look on Zuko's face, he knew exactly which outfits Sokka was referring to.

"You will forget that you ever saw those. That is an order," he said as he took the package out of Sokka's outstretched hand. He eagerly untied the string that Sokka had carefully re-bundled it in. He looked like a little kid on his birthday. Sokka tried to wipe the uncontrollable grin off his face, but it kept coming back. Finally, the package was open and Zuko was staring at the arm band, wide eyed and speechless. "It's beautiful," he whispered reverently. Zuko's pyrotechnics from their earlier outburst had caused most of the candles to burn down to only a few inches. In the dim candlelight, flames danced on the scales of the dragon and an inner fire seemed to spark and ricochet in the glittering eyes of the dragon. He fingered the intricate detail on the feet and the whiskers coming off the dragon's muzzle. "It looks just like one of the real ones." He clasped it tightly in his hands. Zuko quickly glanced up at Sokka then back down. "Um, thank you, Sokka," he mumbled. Sokka couldn't tell in the dim lighting, but he could have sworn Zuko's face was red. Damn. This reaction was even better than he'd imagined. His chest went _ba-thump_ again.

In desperation, he turned to sarcasm. "Well, feel free to shower me with gifts and adoration as a sign of your eternal gratitude of my thoughtfulness."

"As if I would." Zuko laughed and punched him in the shoulder. Rather than dodge, Sokka caught the fire-bender's fist before it made contact. He knew he should have let it go immediately, but instead he held onto it. The hand felt hot and dry in Sokka's palm. He was sure his own skin probably felt like it was burning up. The smile wavered and then slipped off of Zuko's face as they looked at each other. Sokka's heart was pounding like mad now, and he was on the verge of realizing something, something important. This feeling was familiar, but it was like his mind was refusing to work, like it didn't want to help him understand. "Sokka?" Zuko asked uncertainly. His tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously and Sokka's eyes honed in as it made a swipe across the bottom.

All Sokka heard was a loud _bang _and the next thing he knew, he was contemplating the rafters of the ceiling rather than Zuko's mouth. As he studied the sweeping arches high up above him, he drummed his fingers on his chest as new pains blossomed on his shoulders and his butt. After enough injuries, all pain started to feel the same. Sokka was beginning to decide he couldn't be bothered to feel pain any more—it was getting to be a waste of time. One thing was for certain, though—Zuko had GREAT reflexes. That kick had come out of nowhere—he wouldn't have seen it coming from a mile away. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to Iroh's sudden and startling entrance.

"Shit! Sokka! I am SO sorry! It was just an accident! Uncle, why the hell do you feel the need to barge in on people like that?" Zuko stood over him and Sokka took the proffered hand. He all but creaked to his feet. An almost profound sense of relief swept over him. That kick and Iroh's presence had snapped him out of whatever weird moment he and Zuko had just been sharing. Something strange had woken up inside him, and he needed time to think about what it all meant.

"No worries, Iroh. It's all good." They both gave him a dubious look as he wheezed and clutched his ribs where Zuko's foot had connected and sent him flying. He hunched over and waved a hand at them. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Lowering his head so they couldn't see his face, he let his eyes roll into the back of his head. Damn, Zuko packed a hell of a kick.

"Nephew, Sokka, I am sorry for surprising you." Funny. His voice didn't sound very repentant. "Zuko, what is that you have? That is something strange," Iroh eyeballed the gray bundle that Zuko was clutching containing the silver armband. Sokka and Zuko both focused on Iroh with questioning faces.

"What do you mean?" Sokka asked.

"May I?" Reluctantly, Zuko let Iroh pry it out of his fingers. Iroh smiled patiently at him and began studying the dragon with a pleasant face. After a moment, his smile faded and became deadly serious. "Zuko, where did you get this?" He turned the dragon over in his hands again and again, as if to verify that it really was there.

"It was a gift…from Sokka."

"The package you received the night you were harmed?" Iroh looked sharply at Sokka. He nodded hesitantly. He wasn't sure where Iroh was going with this, but he was getting a bad feeling.

"I bought it—well I didn't really buy it, she never took any payment at least—from a little old street vendor lady. Why?"

"Sokka, this is important. What did she look like?" Iroh laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and he shot a desperate glance towards Zuko. Had he messed up again? He realized he hadn't mentioned the ruby heart. This was definitely not the time to bring that strange quirk up, based on Iroh's behavior.

"Well, I mean she was tiny and old, but she had a really clear voice—it almost sounded like silver too, you know, and well, she moved _really_ fast." That was a pretty lame description. He tried really hard to recall other details. She had been so fragile-looking but all he could remember was huffing and puffing as he ate her dust. "She had a really old-fashioned way of speaking, too" he added thoughtfully.

"And you ran into the rebels after chasing her, correct?" Sokka nodded. "And you discovered Sokka when the armband was brought to his room, correct?" Zuko nodded. "Did anything happen when you gave him the armband, Sokka?" Both boys practically shouted "No!" at the same time. Iroh's face screwed up like he'd eaten a lemon before he finally let out a giant sigh and shoved the armband back into Zuko's surprised hands. "Hn. Well, you had better wear it, then." Looking heavenward, he gave another great sigh, "Oh spirits, why must my nephew always get involved in these types of things?" The boys shared a bewildered look.

"Iroh," Sokka said slowly. "What's going on?"

Iroh stared at him for a moment before turning and starting towards the door. After a moment's pause, both boys rushed to catch up with him. It was a few more seconds before he began talking. "Sokka, my friend. I do not know what you did to catch her attention, but that was not an old lady. Zuko, put on the armband. It would not be wise to refuse her gifts. Whatever happens from here on out, I for one will be certain that the spirits—that _that_ spirit—had a hand in it."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I am so, so sorry for the delay! It's the end of my last semester and it has been crazy. School, finals, CPA exam—I am sorry I have neglected y'all, though. I promise I will be better after graduation. This chapter is un-Beta'd so please excuse any grammatical errors or misspellings. I have done my best.**

**Hopefully 7 will be up in the next couple days—6 & 7 started out as one chapter but it grew so big I decided to split it up into two smaller chappies. P.S. Old faces and new places next chapter. **

**I really, really hope you like this chapter—I have spent a lot of time trying to make it as well-written as possible, which I thought would be the least I could do since it took so long to post it. This is the last chapter that you have to bear with Sokka's self-denial, so you are free to expect the romance to heat up, and soon! Thanks for the continued support.**

Sokka slumped down on the stone bench while he waited for Zuko. Pushing a limp hand over his hair, he cursed under his breath as his finger got snagged halfway across his head by a thick knot. His wolf's tail was becoming raggedy but he couldn't seem to muster up the energy to fix it. He wasn't tired so much as worn out from all the excitement—after Iroh had dropped his bomb yesterday, he and Zuko had spent the entire evening swapping places between grilling the old general and poring over documents in the library. They'd roped off a corner of the drafty room and had maneuvered a large old table with a scarred veneer into an alcove. The surface had been worn smooth in various spots from years of use. Getting it back out of where they had squeezed it in wasn't going to be a sure thing. It was covered in stack where they had methodically sorted practically half of the library's historical section into various piles, including "myths and legends" and "historical records" and of course Sokka's favorite, "astronomically absurd mutilation of historical facts with little to no basis in reality." The last pile was the biggest.

They had been in such a frenzy to gather information that his appointment with the palace manager that evening had completely slipped his mind. By the time he had remembered, it was past dinner and most of the staff had gone home. There wasn't much more he could do but put it off a day. They had migrated from the library to Zuko's room, balancing armloads of books and scrolls precariously as they teetered down the hall. Even now, there was a mountain towering high beside the writing table and a massive second pile beside the bed. He had eventually dozed off, but Zuko had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning scouring a particularly musty parchment with legends and myths from the Flame Mountain foothills area by candlelight. He had slept like a rock until being roughly shaken right as the morning sun was beginning to peek out. Apparently, Iroh had come through the room a few times while Sokka was asleep and he hadn't stirred a muscle. Sleeping in such a weird position, hunched over a desk on an uncomfortable wooden chair he had developed a crick in his neck. That wasn't nearly as bad as the fact that he'd spent about five long disoriented minutes with a bit of parchment stuck to his face before Zuko had taken pity and pointed it out. After what should have been considered a Herculean effort to drag his self into the bathroom to freshen up, he had been promptly whisked away with barely enough time to change clothes amid claims that they had 'tons of important things' to do that day.

Which, in retrospect, must have been utter bullshit. There was no other way to explain why he'd been parked on this bench for over an _hour_. His mood was becoming increasingly surly by the millisecond. He'd dozed off a couple times but he had just ended up smacking his head on the stone wall behind him—repeatedly. He'd tried to talk to the guard that had been assigned to Sokka detail, but the man had been moody and silent. For some unknown reason he blamed _Sokka_ for being dragged out of bed at the ass crack of dawn. Oh, and by the way, the guy was not a morning person. Goody. A snarky, black part of his soul buried deep, deep down was tempted to request the same guard for morning detail for the next three days. Misery loved company.

A constant hum of noise filled the air, coming from all over the palace. The spot he'd chosen was slightly isolated from the main wing where all of the meetings were being held. The deserted corridor filtered out a lot of the distractions and for the most part left him alone with his thoughts. After the first fifteen minutes of waiting, he'd discovered that he might not have wanted to be left alone with his thoughts after all. There were only two topics on his mind right now and both of them made his head ache. The old spirit woman preoccupied him the most. But, the scene from the day before with Zuko was running a close second.

Thinking back to the day he had met her out in the capital, it chilled Sokka to think of the number of times the spirit lady had probably altered the course of events simply by nudging the fingers of fate. He held out a hand and counted the number of occurrences he could chalk up to her interference. Of course, the encounter in the alley and the purchase of the armband—which later played a part in his reconciliation with Zuko; his chase after her out into the city and the subsequent ass-kicking from the rebels; her conveniently timed package delivery that saved his life; his encounter with her in his bedroom—he was now certain that it was her voice that he'd heard. These were only the most obvious ones he could name off the top of his head. Who knew what she'd influenced while he'd been unconscious.

Sokka slung an arm over the back of the bench and twirled a quill that he'd snagged from the library between his fingers. It was long and plumy—completely old-fashioned and so unlike him, but he had taken a fancy to it. While he watched the feather flutter round and round, he catalogued in his mental filing cabinet what Iroh had told them yesterday. No one knew her real name. She had a number of sobriquets that had floated around, used in various tales and stories throughout history. The Silversmith and Lady Gray were the most common. Obviously, she had a pretty serious silver fetish and didn't mind if the world knew about it. Not much could be said from the scant few tales that they had dug up in the library, but there were still so many scrolls to go through that it made his eyes bleed just thinking about it. It was moments like this that he regretted from his very core drop-kicking that giant chicken and letting the Library sink into the desert. What he wouldn't give for one of those foxy knowledge-seekers right now.

He shifted forward and leaned his elbows on his knees, plucking at the feathers of the quill and peeling apart the pieces that were stuck together. One day he was going to have to sit down with Iroh and have a nice long chat about how exactly he knew so damn much about the spirit world. The depth of that knowledge was downright impressive, albeit scary. Sokka had a feeling that the less he learned about spirits, the more blissfully ignorant his life would be. As it was from what he'd learned about Lady Gray so far, Sokka was desperately half-wishing he'd never made that outing into the capital.

If there was one thing that they had gathered from Iroh's stories and the legends, it was that her involvement always produced _spectacular_ results. The bad news was that it was either spectacularly good—or spectacularly _terrifying_. Of course, it was possible that a number of legends attributed to her had been exaggerated, or that the spirit involved had been incorrectly identified as Lady Gray. That didn't stop him from gagging at some of the particularly grotesque—and overly detailed—descriptions that the bards and storytellers seemed to relish in sharing. He also had a sickening feeling that all too many of those stories had actually been true. She was also rumored to have an affinity for beasts, both spiritual and real, which explained the odd collection of silver animals she'd been peddling. He shivered. _There_ had been a bunch of furry animals he wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley.

Once she got involved in a human's affairs, it was very hard to avoid dealing with her. In fact, he realized he hadn't read a single story where the human focus of her interest hadn't had to come to a reckoning, whether good or bad. She liked to test the human soul, like a piece of metal—to see whether it was good quality or whether it would become brittle and break. Whether it was a test of will or a test of the heart, the mind, the body, she didn't seem very particular. Most of what he had learned seemed to be in such a sharp contradiction to the little old lady herself that he was having a hard time believing it was the same little old lady. Sure, she'd been sly and in possession of a sharp tongue, but she'd been like a friendly little grandma not a crazy spirit killing machine. He couldn't recall sensing any malice whatsoever from her. That armband…Sokka dropped his head. He trusted Iroh's advice from yesterday implicitly and he understood that they were now playing her game, but he hated the fact that he was to blame for his best friend walking around with a piece of jewelry connected to a spirit that was basically a ticking time bomb. So, despite his protests, Zuko was wearing the armband.

Zuko. No matter how many other things he tried to think about, his mind always wandered back to the day before. At this point he'd rather have been thinking about Grandma Gray than sitting there trying to sort out the giant shitstorm of emotions that had been mucking up his head since yesterday. He knew he was being stubborn, he knew that. It was just that every time he started to think about Zuko, he would remember that weird feeling in his stomach. It felt like a strong pull at his very core—sort of like the times Appa had dropped out of the sky really suddenly and his stomach had practically flown out of his mouth. The more he thought about what that meant, the more he would start to panic. His breath came fast and shallow the walls seemed to gather up tightly and squeeze him. After his third time experiencing that this morning, he'd tried with all of the meager willpower in his soul to put Zuko ou of his mind altogether. Growling in annoyance, he clenched the quill in his fist. It had _not _been easy. The more he tried not to think about Zuko, the more the annoying little shit would strut around in his thoughts.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), he was distracted by a sharp cramp that lanced through his side. He clutched at his ribs while waiting for the wave of nausea to pass; his stomach had been bothering him all morning. The healers had forced him to choke down some food earlier but it had been bland and barely recognizable as food. His stomach churned at the very memory. They hadn't been pleased when he had skipped dinner the night before and had voiced their opinions noisily while shoveling the gruel into him. Overall, the experience had left him feeling like a baby animal, just without the bonus of being cute and fuzzy and able to get away with anything he wanted.

After the wave had passed, he turned his attention back to the feather—the only source of entertainment at his disposal in the dreary hallway. The quill was becoming a blur of black and brown as he started to spin it in his palms, faster and faster. He tried to let his mind go blank from all the thoughts troubling him. He pictured his mind as a room and the worries he carried were pieces of dirt on the floor. The blur of feathers was dusting away his apprehension, sweeping the anxious thoughts to a recess of his mind. His eyes became slightly unfocused as the swirling colors seemed to swell and throb in his vision. Despite how hard he tried he couldn't tear them away. A voice in the back of his head was chanting for him to focus, focus, focus and it was like the colors were swallowing up his vision…and suddenly he was vomiting.

He dropped off the bench onto his knees and clutched his side again. Using his other arm to brace his body weight, he watched helplessly as his breakfast found its way into a giant mess in front of him. He gagged as his stomach heaved and clenched even after there was nothing left but bile. After several long miserable minutes he sat back on his butt, drew his legs up, and leaned his head against the cool stone of the bench to try and soothe his heated face. There weren't many things worse than throwing up, but this time he was surprised to find that all he could feel was relief. Cool hands smoothed over his forehead and he closed his eyes. It was kind of embarrassing that he'd seen that, but the fact that Zuko was finally there alleviated some of his discomfort. He felt a scrap of cloth being stuffed into his hand and he gratefully wiped his mouth.

"Thanks, Zuko. I thought you were going to be a while longer. I'm surprised you actually got away from those Earth Kingdom dudes so quickly." The hands swept back the tendrils of hair that had escaped his wolf tail and pulled away. Opening his eyes he glanced over his shoulder and froze. The hallway was empty. The grouchy Fire Nation guard was shifting from foot to foot much farther away than he had started, staring at Sokka like he was madder than King Bumi. He realized that it must have looked like he'd been talking to himself. Immediately, his eyes snapped down to the scrap of cloth in his hand. His stomach, already suffering from the lingering nausea, seemed to drop once more. He clutched his fingers around the gray, silky cloth. "Shit…" he whispered. She was just toying with him now. Or was she—everything she'd done up until then had been for a purpose whether it was obvious or not. His head hurt too much to concentrate very hard at that moment, but he vowed to turn this over in his mind until he figured out what it meant. The vomiting had probably been her doing as well.

Lurching to his feet, he staggered for a step before taking a deep breath and managing to compose himself enough to walk normally. It took a few more steps to completely regroup but he was finally able to calmly approach the guard. The man swallowed visibly and his desire to be anywhere but with Sokka was practically palpable. Sokka rolled his eyes. Spare him from superstitious bastards. The mess with Grandma Gray (he couldn't bring himself to use her "real" titles) had been kept mostly under wraps, but it seemed that the news had started to circulate amongst the guards already. He eased to a halt beside the older man. Taking pity on him, he didn't look at him directly but instead looked past him down the corridor. "My breakfast didn't really agree with me, I'd appreciate it if you would help me out and give the palace staff a call." He hesitate a moment. "…And it might be best to just keep this between us. No point in worrying anyone."

"Ye…Yes sir." The guard muttered.

Sokka glanced at him and nodded. Hesitating, he added after a moment, "Please keep _all_ of it to yourself." The man nodded almost imperceptively. Sokka stalked to the end of the hallway and turned the corner, somehow carrying himself straight despite the pain. He shook his head to try and clear his muddled feelings. There really wasn't a good reason to keep this new encounter from Zuko. He couldn't seem to stop himself, though. A slight twinge of guilt made him wince as he stuffed the neatly folded square of silky gray cloth into his tunic. The less he could involve Zuko with the spirit the better—if it was Sokka she was interested in, he would rather exercise a little disaster control and keep Zuko off her radar.

"Sokka!" He looked up as he heard his name called. He'd been walking along in a daze, lost in his thoughts. Zuko was walking briskly towards him with a hand held up in greeting. "Sokka! I'm sorry it's taken so long. Those Earth Kingdom delegates are really high maintenance." He wrinkled his nose and fell into step beside Sokka.

"That's fine, as long as we can finally get something done today. And dude, you're the Fire Lord. I know your other duties are really important, so there's absolutely no reason to apologize." He sincerely meant it as he said it but he realized that despite that, he couldn't help but feel an irrational sense of irritation. Probably due to the frequent fighting the past couple days, he felt an urge to monopolize Zuko's time. The feeling of annoyance grew as Zuko began to fill him in on the various meetings of the morning. It seemed that there was a particularly amusing new delegate that had recently been appointed. The guy was around their age and had been instrumental in keeping the Fire Lord awake during a thirty-minute long lecture about implementing an Earth Kingdom mail courier system, courtesy of a senior delegate who, in addition to getting on his years, was legendary for his monotone. Apparently, one of the reasons Zuko had been held up and Sokka had been forced to wait was the result of a long, amazingly hilarious joke that this new guy had told and blah blah blah. Zuko's face was lit up as he recalled the meeting for Sokka in infuriatingly minute detail. Sokka's mood was going down the pits. He hadn't met the dude, but he knew he didn't _want_ to.

Zuko must have noticed his unresponsiveness, and the lively conversation died off. The desire to sneak a glance at his face niggled Sokka until he finally caved to the urge. His guilty conscience began pummeling him immediately. Zuko looked so disappointed at Sokka's reaction to his story, that it made him want to stop and cheer him up, make him smile, tell knock-knock jokes—_anything_ to get that look off of his face. Ugh! His emotions were caught in such turmoil between guilt, irritation, and happiness at finally getting to see Zuko that it was enough to make him want to stomp and rage and pull his hair out in an EPIC temper tantrum. He had never felt this conflicted in his _life_. He was always so sure of everything, so confident—only Zuko could make him feel this off-balance. The silence stretched on as they walked down the empty hallway. Empty…

… Speaking of empty, his attention perked up when he quickly analyzed the hallway. The guard-less hallway. Judging from the sounds drifting through the hallway, he could gauge how close they were to other people. Still, there was a definite lack of guards. "Zuko, where are your guards? Should you really be wandering around without them?"

Zuko shrugged. He seemed a bit relieved that Sokka was talking. "After I finally tracked you down where you were hiding, I was just one wing over. I think I can handle myself over a few meters—I _have_ held my own against Azula, Katara, and Aang, Sokka." The corners of Sokka's mouth turned down. He understood, but he still didn't like the fact that Zuko had been wandering around alone, especially if he was the reason. Besides, they didn't have just the assassin to worry about—who knew if Zuko would realize who he was up against if he encountered Grandma Gray. His scowl deepened.

"So…" Zuko began. "You know…I think we should get out of here today." Sokka's head snapped towards him like he was a starving man and Zuko had just announced he had the last bit of blubbered seal jerky in the world. "We don't tell anyone but Iroh where we're going, just take a couple of the royal guards—the ones that you and I trust…there's a little villa farther up the mountains that my mother used to escape to when she needed some time away, back when I was a kid. She took me with her a couple times" There was a light quality in his voice that had been missing for some time now. Hearing Zuko talking in such an unguarded manner was refreshing.

He slowed to a halt and tilted his head, mulling over the idea. Although he hadn't been awake for most of it, they had both been cooped up in the palace for weeks. The mere mental image of fresh air and sunshine was enough to make the dark recesses of the hallway seem brighter. His scowl disappeared as he began to smile slowly at Zuko, who had walked on a little farther and was now leaning against the wall waiting for Sokka to catch up. His head rested on the tapestry behind him while his eyes had drifted shut. A corner of his mouth tilted into a sad little smile. Sokka watched him for a moment. No doubt that he was recalling some distant memory he had shared with his mom. A small pang of regret squeezed Sokka's heart. He remembered the day that Zuko had told him his mother was still alive in perfect detail. He'd been so excited for his best friend that he had started thinking up celebratory plans involving a lot of alcohol and all of their friends. It had taken him a few minutes before he'd noticed that the newly appointed Fire Lord was much more subdued than he himself would have been after such a discovery.

It was also the same day he'd found out that Ozai had been killed by a rogue guard with a major vendetta. He'd died before Zuko could wring any real information out of him about Ursa. That was the first time he'd seen Zuko cry. With a bitter twist to his lips, he looked down from Zuko's face and focused on his chest. He still wasn't sure what would have been more painful for his friend—knowing her fate, or holding on to this warped sense of hope. His own mother was gone, and it hurt—but at least he could lay it to rest in his soul and move forward because he _knew_. Claiming a patch of wall beside Zuko, he imitated him by leaning his head back to rest on the soft loops of the cloth. Shoving his thumbs into his sword belt, he bumped his shoulder into Zuko's. They leaned comfortably against each other for a moment.

"Are you sure that it would be okay for us to just up and leave while the palace in such a crisis? I mean, it seems a little irresponsible of us." Sokka wanted to go so bad, but there was everything else to think about. Aang's party was a short week and a half away now, and they still had no clue where the assassin could be. To top that, they now had the added worry of a flaky yet powerful spirit breathing down their necks. "Besides, we still need to make up that appointment with the palace manager. I thought you wanted to be there with me while we interviewed the staff?"

"Actually…I did a lot of thinking while you were asleep last night." Sokka stared at him. Zuko blushed and pushed himself off the wall to face Sokka. "Iroh came in and we talked about it. I mean, I wanted to mention it to you before, but I had to go to that meeting all morning. I guess you would have wanted to know when you got up, but I just… Don't say anything—just let me tell you what I think." Sokka gaped at him stupidly. He had _no friggin' clue_ what the hell Zuko was talking about.

Zuko waved his hands in front of him. "Hold on. Let me start over." He took a deep breath and began again. "This assassin is after me, and probably after you. We take ourselves out of the equation completely and they have to play by _our _rules." Sokka raised an eyebrow but nodded. It made sense. "Now, I'm not saying we go somewhere and sit around on our thumbs. I've already had the royal guard intelligence group pull information for us on all of the employees that were on the list you gave the palace manager. We can look over this stuff, do some digging—we can even have Iroh do some of the interviews and send us a report. You know that out of everyone we know, Iroh is the most likely to notice if something's off about someone. He _is_ my uncle." Zuko tried to smother a proud smile but failed. If Iroh had heard him right now he probably would have been over the moon, racing to come up with a sonnet or ballad or something to commemorate the moment. Maybe it was better that he hadn't heard it. Sokka could only take so much of wailing horns and songs of unrequited love in one week.

"Iroh told me that he can handle most of the remaining preparations for your plan during the Avatar's party by himself. I still don't like it, but I think if we want to have the highest chance of your plan working then we need to back the assassin into a corner. We need to make them make their move when _we_ want them to. By going up to the villa, they'll be _forced_ to wait until the party." Sokka's other eyebrow joined the first one. _This_ was one of the reasons Zuko was Fire Lord. Moments like this reminded Sokka that Zuko had been one of the only people to catch Aang during the war—not just once, but multiple times. When it came to trapping an enemy, he got an A+.

Zuko was pacing in excitement now. "It will also give you time to recover—Shuu hasn't talked about it with Iana and Yami, but she said that you are doing great—you just need to follow a list of exercises that she gave me. I've even gathered every scroll and book where Lady Gray was ever even _hinted_ about so that we can continue to research, and they've already all been packed!" Hitting his hand in his fist for emphasis, he spun towards Sokka with his face glowing in anticipation. He was so adorable when he was excited and he was picking up speed. "I've handpicked every single guard that would go with us and I've known them all since I was a kid. Only Iroh and a couple of the generals would know where we are. The villa has a hawk rookery, so there would be no problem communicating—it's _perfect_." Wait a minute, had he just thought that Zuko was _adorable_? He shook his head violently to dislodge the thought. "So…what do you think? You don't like it?" He sounded crestfallen. He must have mistaken Sokka's head movements for disagreement.

Sokka froze from shaking his head. "No! I mean, yes! No, I wasn't shaking my head about that—I think…I think it's a really, really good plan, Zuko." He had really thought about all of the angles. Not only that, but he had actually taken Sokka's plan into consideration—he was sincerely trying to support him, even when he disagreed with it. Sokka's stomach fluttered.

Zuko grinned and did a little bow. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be taking autographs later." He straightened up, suddenly business-like. "But if you're ok with it, that means we need to leave—like, now." He was pretty sure they'd need to borrow Appa to retrieve his eyebrows from the moon. If he wasn't careful, they were going to get stuck up there. _Now_? Zuko must have seen the hesitation on his face. He turned away but kept looking at Sokka out of the corner of his eye, casually adding, "They have a hot spring, you know."

Zuko stumbled behind him as Sokka dragged him down the hallway by his wrist. "Why the hell are you hesitating, Zuko?" he shouted over his shoulder. "We need to get packed!" He marched them down the short remaining stretch of corridor, towards the meeting rooms. First things first, they needed to pick up a guard. If the assassin had any inkling whatsoever that they were leaving he didn't want to be wandering around the palace before they left with just the two of them. A large mixture of soldiers and politicians were milling about the corridor to waste time before the next meeting. Iroh was standing in the doorway chatting with an attractive young man who had long brown hair that was pulled back into a loose ponytail. He sported a tan complexion that was almost rivaled Sokka's. Strong but striking features were not overwhelmingly beautiful, but enough that they made a lasting impression. He must be the new Earth Kingdom delegate Zuko had been ranting about.

Sokka hated him on the spot.

He skidded to an abrupt stop beside Iroh with Zuko still in tow. The other teen bumped into his back at the sudden halt. Iroh glanced between the two of them and apparently got some indication that the plan was a go, because he gave a slight nod to Zuko. Sokka glared at the attractive man standing quietly to the side before making the decision to completely ignore him.

Iroh must have noticed his expression and there was a telltale sly glint in his eye. Sokka did a double take at the old man's expression. It was never a good sign when he got that mischievous look, and a feeling of trepidation rushed him. "Sokka! I'd like you to meet Lang of the Ying family. He recently took over his father's position as a treasury advisor and delegate from the Earth Kingdom. Lang, this is Sokka, our resident Southern Water Tribe Ambassador and close friend of Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang. I am excited that you two finally meet! I hope you can be good friends. You both share a love of…travelling. You should share your stories with one another, perhaps over dinner sometime."

"Yes! I've heard all about you from Fire Lord Zuko! It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person! I'd be delighted to join you for a meal when you have some free time. I know you must be a busy man." He gave Sokka a warm smile with blindingly white teeth and extended his hand. He seemed like a perfectly nice guy, but for some reason all Sokka wanted to do was to knock those perfect white teeth out. He begrudgingly took the proffered hand and gave it a forceful shake. He still had a tight grip on Zuko's wrist behind his back, out of sight of the others.

Simultaneously smiling and baring his teeth, he managed to mutter "It's a pleasure." The young delegate didn't flinch at all from the tight grip and his dazzling smile didn't waver. Sokka snatched his hand back as soon as he could, but kept his mouth stretched in a wide, insincere smile.

"Sokka, you can let go of me now. If you do not, please have no doubt that I will melt your fingers off." Zuko whispered to his back while smiling and nodding politely to Lang. Sokka released his arm immediately. Fingers were good. Fingers were useful. He liked his fingers.

Speaking of fingers, Zuko's slender, pale fingers were clasped between Lang's bronzed palms as he greeted Zuko in a casual, familiar way. Too familiar. Who the hell did he think he was, touching the Fire Lord like that? Sokka tensed as one hand moved to Zuko's shoulder as they shared a laugh. There was no real reason for him to dislike this guy so much but the easy way he was laughing with Zuko acted like sandpaper on his nerves. That was _his _best friend, _his _Zuko. Besides, hadn't they just spent like, three hours together?

Trying to figure out a way to butt into their conversation, he scowled at Iroh when the old man took his arm and pulled him a few steps away. "I trust that Zuko has filled you in on your special agenda for the day?" Iroh asked pointedly. Sokka nodded. "Excellent. You don't have any objections, I hope?" Fidgeting, Sokka gave a sharp jerk of his head as a negative indication. He couldn't stop staring at the pair of laughing young men over Iroh's shoulder. "You haven't had anything…strange occur lately, have you?" Sokka's head jerked and he stiffened. His gaze riveting back to the general, a small chill shivered down his spin. How did Iroh know? Iroh studied his face for a moment and found the answer there. "Be careful, Sokka. Knowing you, Zuko does not know yet. But if it gets worse, you _must _tell him."

Sokka shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Guilt was already gnawing at his stomach for keeping his encounter a secret. He didn't know how the old general had known, but then again there were quite a few things that Iroh just somehow knew. He really didn't want to continue the conversation. Luckily, the old general took pity on him and interjected into the flow of Zuko and Lang's conversation. "Zuko, don't you and Sokka have another meeting you must get to? With palace security, I think?"

Zuko nodded and thanked Iroh for the reminder, then said a few pleasant goodbyes to Lang and the other delegates. While they were waiting, Sokka was busy glaring darkly at Lang when Iroh muttered under his breath in such a low tone that Sokka barely caught it. "Easy as a game of Pai Sho. Can't get some idiots to make a move without a direct attack." Before he could ask him what this meant, Zuko joined them. Iroh walked with them to the end of the hallway and whispered under his breath in a blatantly covert manner as they parted, "You have a very full, well publicized schedule today, my boys. If you were to suddenly disappear, I am sure that the poor assassin would have no forewarning." Zuko rolled his eyes at the cryptic speech.

"Uncle, no one's listening. You don't have to speak in code. Ugh, you've been spending _way _too much time with your White Lotus buddies lately. Don't they have anything else to do these days?" Iroh grinned at him sheepishly. Zuko continued, "Are the guards we chose ready? Sokka and I still need to go grab some things, but we are going to try to travel light."

"They are assembled and waiting, Nephew. Two of them will meet you outside of your room. Are you sure you are ok traveling by yourselves to the chambers?" Zuko nodded and grumbled about being babied. Iroh opened his mouth as if to say something and stopped. He paused a moment then pulled Zuko into a fierce hug. "Be careful," Sokka heard him whisper. A little pang of loneliness clenched in his heart and for a moment he had a desperate wish to see his dad. It didn't last long as Iroh must have sensed how he was feeling and pulled him in to a giant bear hug as well. Grinning stupidly he half-hugged Iroh back, before rubbing his hand on the back of his head shyly.

The two teens slipped away around the corner towards their next "meeting" and swiftly made their way towards Zuko's bedroom. Every step away from the Earth Kingdom delegates made Sokka feel buoyant, it was like pulling out a splinter. Even better, all of the belongings that Sokka would need for the trip were already in the chamber. In fact, most of his stuff still wasn't unpacked from when he had brought it over from his own room. In short, there was very little he had to do to pack. For some reason this made the whole trip seem more real and pretty soon giddy excitement was starting to grow inside him.

Zuko's disgruntled voice jerked him out of his pleasant thoughts. "Sokka, what the hell was that earlier with Lang? Did you not like him? Normally you love funny people. Have you met him before or something?" Sokka's mood immediately soured again upon mention of the young Earth Kingdom twit. Pulling a face, he shrugged. Zuko glanced at him and sighed when it became apparent that Sokka didn't plan on answering him. "Honestly Sokka, you are a great guy and you're my best friend but sometimes, you're a total ass." Giving up on the topic, Zuko dropped the conversation while they kept walking.

In the following silence Sokka's thoughts wandered. Why _did _he dislike that guy so much? It wasn't that he really seemed like a bad person. He just annoyed the shit of Sokka for some reason. The guy was way too friendly with Zuko. Sokka frowned. Why should he care about that, though? He glanced over at his friend and studied his profile. Zuko was on his left, so his smooth, unmarred skin faced towards him. Sokka studied the firm yet delicate features. Soft black hair was pulled into a knot and small tendrils escaped at the crown of his head. He had incredibly long, sooty lashes that were thicker than most girls he knew. He knew a village full of women who would kill for those puppies. Inadvertently, his gaze was drawn to Zuko's mouth, which was parted slightly from the brisk pace they had taken up. That weird pressure started to charge the air around him like it had that morning, and he found himself drifting closer to Zuko. He shook himself and jerked back. What the hell was he doing? Once again, he was on the brink of admitting something to himself. Something scary. Inner Sokka was cursing and stomping his feet, trying to rip out his hair by his wolf's tail. Frantically, he began thinking about other things—sea prune stew, fire lilies, dragons—no, wait, that last one was no good…

"You know Sokka, a painting would last longer. I can _feel _you staring at me. What's up? Do I have something on my face?" His voice was laced with dry humor.

"N-no…nothing. You've just gotten a little thin." He flushed. He hadn't realized he was being that obvious. Of course, he'd only been staring at Zuko so hard that it was a wonder the other teen hadn't caught on fire. Which he could have put out immediately. Because it was fire and all. One of the perks of being a bender. Kicking himself, he cursed his stupidity. Zuko would have had to be blind not to notice.

He tore his eyes from him but kept studying him surreptitiously with his peripheral vision. Overall, Zuko's face really was a lot thinner than usual. Maybe if he stopped worrying about everyone else and started worrying about his own health, he wouldn't look so haggard. That was a trait that Sokka hated but at the same time he loved it because it was so—_Zuko_. Sweeping the corner of his eye down, he noted that Zuko had lost a little weight all over, not just in his face. Sokka could tell just from glancing that he was still muscular under those robes, and he knew for a fact that Zuko kept himself trained to near-perfection. Still, it was obvious that the stress was taking a toll on him. As they finally reached the door to Zuko's chambers, he hung back a little to watch Zuko enter the lounge-like area that served as a waiting room for the Fire Lord's personal visitors.

It separated the bed chambers from the entrance and was markedly more ostentatious than anything Zuko would have chosen for himself personally. He gave a vague nod to the two guards Iroh had mentioned as he drifted into the tall, gilded doors. He crossed his arms and tilted his head as he closely observed Zuko's confident stride while the firebender collected a few items and tossed them in a pile on the floor to take with them. When he went to retrieve a stack of blank scrolls, Zuko's elbow knocked an empty ink well off the table sending it flying off the edge. Quicker than most normal eyes could follow, he dropped into a graceful crouch with one long leg straight out to the side for balance. His free hand caught the well in mid-air, wrapping the chunk of stone in a tight grip. Sokka sucked in a breath as he watched the play of muscles in his legs and back. The graceful, undulating moves were almost sexual. Zuko bounced back to his feet and gently placed the object back on the desktop.

Confused, Sokka wandered towards the inner bedroom door. No, he wasn't just admiring how graceful Zuko was, that wasn't the only thing… His hand froze on the door handle. All of his efforts he'd exerted that morning to avoid thinking about Zuko had been futile. His mind began to put the pieces together against his will. Shit, he had to think about something else—sea prunes, sea prunes—it was no use! The wheels had already started turning.

The armband…buying presents for Zuko…fierce over-protectiveness…that strange feeling in his stomach…his _jealous_ reaction to Lang…and the fact that he'd just been staring at Zuko's _ass_—all of this had happened before, with someone else… The realization hit him harder than one of the Mechanist's metal submarines at the exact same moment that he yanked open the door to the bedroom. It only made it halfway open before he felt like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. Sokka's eyes bugged out in horror and he dropped to a crouch, covering his mouth with his free hand as he let out a weird strangled grunt. Zuko's exclamation of worry came through as if Sokka was hearing it underwater.

Holy flaming fireballs. All this had happened. With _Suki_.

He was in love. With _Zuko_.

The revelation was so overwhelming that it took a good minute to register what was going on around him. For a moment, he just stared stupidly at the handle of the knife sunk into the soft wood of the door about two inches deep. The pommel was expensive-looking thick, worn ivory carved with a crosshatch pattern that must have come from the imported tusks of a saber-tooth moose lion from all the way in the Earth Kingdom. It was now currently quivering in the doorway above him right where he'd been standing less than 15 seconds ago. He shared a slack-jawed look with Zuko who had come up to stand behind him when he'd collapsed to a crouch. Simultaneously, they looked back at the knife. He'd almost become a Water Tribe shish kabob.

The second knife hit the door frame beside his head with such force that the casing shattered. Splinters of black and red painted wood flew at his face and he had to yank his arm up to knock them away before they sunk into his cheeks. He was temporarily blinded as he shielded himself. The knee-jerk reaction managed to snap him out of his stupor so that his limbs unfroze. With one hand, he grabbed the pommel of the ivory dagger beside his head and yanked it out of the door. It was almost as long as his forearm and felt weighty in his palm. Space Sword Jr made its way into his right hand. All of this had happened in a matter of seconds but it felt like hours. Every second counted with an unknown enemy armed with unknown weapons. A sudden thought struck him and he remembered that Zuko had just walked up behind him. In a panic, he looked back to check on the firebender but he was gone. A blast of flames coming from inside the bedroom answered his next question. Of course the Fire Lord wouldn't keep himself out of harm's way. After that, all hell broke loose.

**Next chapter will bring back the action. Woot! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Gentle readers, I prostrate myself before you. I am not worthy of your devotion. I am a bad, bad woman. It has been two months since I updated and when I finally do, it's pure crap. I blame the CPA exam. I have spent a long, long time rewriting this chapter and it seems I am now officially beta-less again. ****L It is still not the amazing fight scene I envisioned in my head, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I have discovered that fight scenes are much, much harder to write than they seem. I probably could have edited this three more times but frankly I just want to get this shit up there and out of my hair. _If there are any grievous errors or continuity issues, please let me know and I will be happy update the story accordingly. There will be a few._**

**Note on Sokka's behavior in this chapter: I know many of you will connect with how Sokka is feeling—once you come to a really important realization, it really is like opening the floodgates to all kinds of crazy thoughts. It's like a one-way switch: you can turn it on, but you can't turn it back off. Poor Sokka. And are you wondering if there is a little more crack humor in this chapter? Well, yes. Yes, there is. Why, you ask? Because these are characters from _Avatar_. Watch it and understand.**

**LAST! UPDATED 7/30/11: Due to overwhelming support I have received via reviews & emails, I can no longer guarantee who will top. Much love.**

**Disclaimer: Me? I own nothing.**

**Special thanks to: Mira chan and Jamaica for the reviews this past week that gave me the energy I needed for the final push to review this chapter! **

Sokka held his breath and timed the seconds between blasts of heat. On the fifth count, he dashed into the room at a low run. Aiming for Zuko's bed, he swerved to dodge the small knives that began whistling past him. Reaching the edge, he quickly jammed the ivory handle of the knife between his teeth. Using his free hand, he slammed his palm down on the mattress and tucked his legs under him tightly as he vaulted over the bed, barely clearing the other side. Hitting the floor in a slide, he reached under the bed and blindly grasped for the old metal handle he knew would be there. Feeling the cool iron brush his fingertips, Sokka managed to gain enough purchase to wrap his first two knuckles around the handle. The old chest fought with him at first and the cold metal bit into his skin, but it slid out from under the bed. Flipping it upright, he yanked it in front of himself just as a flurry of small daggers pinged against the lid like raindrops falling on one of the Fire Nation's popular metal roofs. Zuko wasn't going to be happy about that. So much for keepsakes from the war. Guilt was fleeting if not nonexistent when self-preservation came into the picture, though. Life. Sokka liked it.

Removing the knife from his clenched teeth, he wasted no time in casting his eyes around to see if there was anything in arm's reach that could be of use. The bedroom of the Lord of one the most militaristic nations that ever raised hell upon the four nations had an astoundingly abysmal number of items that could be labeled as "remotely possible weapon for use in a random fight with an assassin before lunch." At least on this side of the bed. The only two items that had any possible merit whatsoever were the old wooden pole that Zuko sometimes used in training, and the decorated turtle seal shell that Sokka had given him on his eighteenth birthday a year or so ago when he'd still been hunting bandits. They were supposed to bring good luck. More importantly, it had brought a couple of flasks full of ice wine that had knocked everyone on their asses for the whole two days he'd been visiting.

He had no clue what use it could come in now, but there was no harm in keeping an open mind. Sokka's evaluation of the terrain had taken less than thirty seconds. It was more than enough time for the assassin to reload. From the sounds of it though, Zuko was keeping him more than busy enough to give Sokka time to scope out the situation. Emerging from his makeshift shield, Sokka almost dropped it as he gaped at the scene in front of him.

The entire room South side of the room was a blackened wreck. Chairs and tables had been knocked over and splintered as the fight had travelled around the chamber. Scorch marks littered the walls. Columns on the outskirts of the room that were once painted with a decorative red were now cracked and peeling from the extreme heat of Zuko's fury. As for the players themselves…

Fire Lord Zuko? Check. Right where Sokka left him, trying his fucking best to get himself killed.

Assassin? Check, check. Still producing an ungodly number of daggers from hiding places that Sokka could probably only _dream _of, and throwing them with his FIFTY FUCKING HANDS. Seriously, where the hell was this guy pulling them from? Did he wear dagger-lined panties? He'd never seen someone produce steel that fast, and in such abundance.

A single dagger shot towards him. It seemed like an almost half-hearted attempt, which it basically was. The knife-wielding assassin was much too busy trying not to get forced into the corner by the cords of flame lashing at him, to bother much with defending himself against an opponent that hadn't even attacked yet. That was about to change. Sokka knocked the small knife away in irritation. Stalking forward, he kept his eyes trained on the hooded little man. There was something about his frame that was familiar. It created an uncomfortable echo in his memory. Little opportunity presented itself for Sokka to break the exchange of blows and attacks, but he kept his eyes sharp for an opening. Getting Zuko out and away from the fight was his main priority—however unrealistic it actually was. Zuko was absorbed in the battle and Sokka knew from experience that he fought with unwavering tenacity. In other words, he was one stubborn little shit and wouldn't stop fighting until he won, his opponent was dead, or he was dead or close to it. Sokka watched as he swept one foot across the floor and whirled his body around, sinking low to the floor. Flames shot from his foot in an explosive style like they had been pulled straight through the floor from hell with the express purpose of burning the assassin to ash. That wasn't the impressive part, though. The impressive part was the rope of flames that Zuko lashed out with in the same movement. He used the twisting motion of his upper body, dragging his hand across the floor like he was lighting a giant match. The cord of flames coiled out from his hand and lashed directly towards the man's knees. The double-headed attack was ingenious. Blocking explosive flames relied on dispersing the heat with large movements. Sharp, concentrated flame like the whip though, required a completely different kind of defense—one of cutting the path. Very precise. Defending against both forms at the same time was next to impossible for all but the most seasoned warrior. It was the heat of the battle, but Sokka still let out a low whistle of appreciation. Someone had been eating his fire flakes.

Apparently the assassin had also been eating his daily bowl of dead baby koala sheep or whatever it was that bad guys ate, because he managed to avoid both attacks—barely. The little man spun in the air, missing the coil of flame as Zuko snapped it back towards him. His left arm was singed and hanging limply at his side from a prior attack by Zuko. As he landed, he faltered on his right leg and the fight finally seemed to pause for a moment as Zuko also seized the opportunity to lean over and breathe heavily from exertion. When he stumbled backwards, the hood fell away from the face of the assassin to reveal a flushed and sweaty little man, baring crooked yellow teeth and gasping with fatigue. The world seemed to crackle around him. Everything froze and Sokka felt like if he looked around, the room would be twinkling with a perpetual layer of ice and winter—not moving, not breathing. Just frozen. Even the blood in his veins was slowing down, becoming sluggish and chilled. His vision narrowed until there were just two things in the entire room—him, and that bitch-ass rat-faced prick.

This was not Zhen. No, this was someone that Sokka was much more intimately acquainted with. The little man looked up at him from where he was bent over wheezing. Sokka's skin crawled as a slow smile spread across the man's face. "Sokka…" the man breathed in obvious delight. He shuddered. Even now, he could feel the cold blade tracing bloody rivulets down his arms. The other rebels had been content to just beat him to a bloody pulp, and that was fine. He could deal with dull pain—it was easy to cut your mind off from something like that. Not this sick fuck, though. That hadn't been enough. Without a doubt, he was face-to-face again with 'Shorty,' the rebel with the broken nose and a fetish for knives.

There were a lot of things that had come back to him in the past few days about his hours in the hands of his captors. He'd pushed most of it out of his mind as best he could—there was no point in living in the past or reliving the pain. So when he _did_ have to think about that time and he _did_ have to relive those memories, he tried his very, very complete and total best to not—to not EVER—remember what Rat Face (much more fitting than 'Shorty,' he thought) had done to him. Suffice to say, he was skilled with a knife and had enjoyed carving Sokka up more than a swamp bender loved chicken opossum. Most of the repair the healers had done on his flesh had taken place while he'd been unconscious and Sokka was grateful for that. Rat Face was the majority of the reason his bathroom…and his bedroom…and basically everywhere he'd walked or touched or even looked at, had resembled something close to a fucking slaughterhouse.

So now that he was actually face-to-face with the bastard, Sokka made a startling revelation. The first part of his revelation was that when it came to pain, there were two kinds of people in this world. After experiencing severe or traumatic pain there was the kind of person that, when faced with the cause of it again, either shut down or they reacted with terror or panic. The second part of Sokka's revelation was that Sokka was not this first kind of person. He was the second kind. The kind that got _pissed_.

Before either Zuko or Rat Face could recover, he was attacking. He wasn't sure who was more surprised by his sudden onslaught—Zuko, Rat Face, or himself. The little man grunted as Sokka drove him backward until his back bumped against one of the singed walls. It took a moment, but the rebel quickly recovered and began attacking back in earnest. Space Sword Jr was almost useless in such close quarters and he found himself relying on the long knife more than anything else. Taking advantage of the proximity, Sokka struck out with his fist towards the man's solar plexus. The rebel was able to see Sokka's attack right before it came and dodged it so Sokka's fist glanced off his shoulder. With a snarl of frustration, Sokka slashed at Rat Face's head. The man ducked and Sokka's knife scraped down the brick, sparks flying where it struck. With his arm up, he was unable to dodge when the man planted a fist in his gut. Doubling over, he quickly transitioned into a backwards somersault as a dart whistled past his head. Rolling away, he skittered to a crouch and looked up at the rebel. They met eyes and lunged forward at the same time, trying to force the other onto the defensive. Sokka jabbed and slashed with nearly blinding speed. His knife was whistling through the air, singing a sweet tune that had Sokka's adrenaline pumping. He was winning the battle for the offense, and Rat Face was just barely stopping the attacks with a short dagger.

A sharp pain blossomed in his leg as the rebel's blade sunk into the meaty flesh of his quad. His steps faltered as his leg threatened to give out in surprise. With a grunt, he flew backwards as the little man planted a solid kick in his chest. The breath was knocked out of him as he thumped against the wall beside the balcony hard enough to make his teeth rattle. "Sokka, you idiot!" Zuko's voice snapped at him. Sokka growled in frustration as Zuko leapt from the sidelines and became a whirling blur of blades. Apparently there were a couple more weapons in the room than Sokka had noticed. Wielding his twin blades, he glared over his shoulder at Sokka as he leapt back from the rebel. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You _just_ started pissing on your own a few days ago and now you think you can _fight_?"

Fisting his fingers around the knife he thumped his hand on the wall behind him. "I could say the same to you, you're the freaking _Fire Lord_ and you think putting yourself in this kind of danger is a good idea? Better me than you, you moron!" Spying something beside him out of the corner of his eye, his face lit up. Dropping his weapons in a flash, he snagged the long training pole he'd spotted earlier. Rolling forward he thrust the pole out like a spear. The blunt head landed directly on target in the middle of the rebel's chest. With a yelp, he tripped away from Zuko. Drawing his arm back as far as he could, he swung the pole with all of the force in his arm. His aim ran true and the pole smacked into the rebel's head and the little man went flying across the room, to the other side of the bed where he disappeared from sight. Sokka sank down to rest on his good knee. Zuko spun towards him, eyes narrowed. "So you think I should sacrifice you because of my fancy title? That can be arranged, peasant."

Sokka barked a laugh. "Peasant, huh? That's a name I haven't heard in a while." He shook his head, reaching for Zuko's proffered hand. "Should I start calling you 'Master'?" Zuko stumbled and they both almost fell down together. Wrapping his arms around Zuko's narrow waist, he heaved them backwards and rolled to the side to avoid the darts. They were getting easier to avoid, Sokka could almost taste victory. Resting on his elbows, he looked down at Zuko. "Welcome back, pervert. Did you have a nice trip? It'll be a hundred years before I call you Master. Don't get your hopes up." Sokka was dumped unceremoniously to the side.

"Spare me." Zuko huffed and stomped off. "Get off the floor you idiot, we're in the middle of a battle." Sokka rolled lazily to the side again to avoid another set of knives. This was dangerous. They were in the middle of a fight to the death with a crazy skilled assassin who'd already carved him up once, and all he could think about was teasing Zuko.

He should just impale himself on Space Sword Jr now, and save them all some trouble.

Swiping his weapons back up off the floor, he propelled himself off the floor. Sprinting past Zuko, he stuck out his tongue as the Fire Lord's face shifted from surprise to anger. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he jumped in the air and latched on to the nearest pole on the four poster bed. Swinging his body around like he was back in the Swamp, he connected with the little assassin who had been crouching behind the bed, feet first. The man landed on his back and grabbed Sokka's foot, twisting. For a moment, he thought his foot would just snap. Instead, he spun a complete circle in the air and landed painfully beside Rat Face. With a growl, he kicked out at Rat Face's head and was rewarded with a grunt of pain.

Zuko skidded around the corner of the bed and made to move past Sokka as the rebel leapt to his feet. Sokka roughly pushed himself in front of Zuko. After a brief struggle, he managed to cut off Zuko's attempt to take over the fight with a direct attack on the rebel. Just as he had done earlier, he made the distance between the two too close for Zuko to have any real chance of cutting in. After about five minutes, Sokka's satisfaction was beginning to crumble. The assassin seemed to have limitless reserves of energy, although he was sweating and huffing just as bad as Sokka was. The man's slashes had become quick again, probably due to a survival instinct after being cornered. He had to end it quick—he was running out of steam and Zuko was poised, just waiting for a golden opportunity to get Sokka out of the fight and onto the sidelines.

Halfway through an upward sweep of the blade, Rat Face's arm was moving across his body. Sokka pulled the knife back at the last minute while flipping Space Sword Jr pommel-up. He slammed the hard knob on the end of the grip into the weak, vulnerable elbow joint of Rat Face's good arm. With a sickening crunch of cartilage, Sokka felt the bones and tendons snap as he turned Rat Face's elbow from an outie to an innie. Simultaneously, he brought the handle of the knife back forward and crushed it into the delicate bones of the man's other wrist. There was a little resistance then the bones simply caved in. Rat Face screamed as his forearm flopped around at an unnatural angle, and all of the action that had started from the moment he'd opened that door stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. That arm and that wrist were never going to be the same.

The daggers fell out of his now useless hands and he sunk to his knees, trying to clutch at his ruined arm with his useless hand, which was also bent unnaturally to the side. Strange gargling sounds were coming from the man. Sokka should have felt sickened or even felt some small trace of pity, but instead he just felt kind of empty. He no longer had that blinding hatred or anger burning through his veins—there was no way Rat Face would be able to torture someone again. Not with those injuries. He stood looking down at the broken man with absolutely no feelings at all and no remorse, just relief. Sokka felt a hand grab his shoulder roughly and pull him back. Taken off guard, he stumbled backwards, awkwardly bumping into Zuko who caught them both. Zuko cursed and set Sokka to the side before stepping over to the fallen man and sweeping his leg out low to the ground, hooking his foot behind Rat Face's knees. The little man's feet and legs flew into the air and he landed on his back on the floor in an ungraceful heap. Pitiful whining sounds came from the defeated rebel and Sokka felt revolted. Zuko snagged a large braided rope from the drapes hanging on either side of the balcony. The tasseled ends looked ridiculous as he bound the man's feet, legs and arms—being none too careful with the man's injuries.

Finally, Zuko was done and Rat Face was back on his knees, now silent and staring at the ground. They both contemplated him in silence for a moment, still buzzing with adrenaline. It was hard to come down from such a rush and Sokka was focusing on steadying his pulse. Zuko whirled towards him and grabbed him by the shoulder, gesturing wildly at the man with his other arm.

"Sokka! What the hell is going on! Do you know him? Is it Zhen?" Sokka just looked at him. Zuko's face was flushed but glowing. He looked beautiful. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. "Please don't do something dangerous like this again." With a thunk, he leaned over and rested his head on Sokka's shoulder. It felt like all the nerves in his body were all gathered in the patches of skin where Zuko's body was touching him. He couldn't tell if his shortened breath was from the fight or from Zuko's proximity… "This guy is a pro. Not many people have stood up to me for that long, or _you_ for that matter. He must have been a soldier—with years and years of training. I wonder how we find out if he's Zhen. Maybe Uncle would know." Sokka didn't respond. Between Rat Face and Zuko, his mind was a mess. "Sokka! Are you listening to me? What's gotten into you? Is it Zhen, or not?" Pulling away from Sokka, he shook him lightly. Sokka shook his head almost imperceptively.

He looked down at the rebel. His hair was still coming out of his wolf's tail, and he slowly raised a hand to push it out of his eyes. He noted with some surprise that his hand was shaking on the way up to his forehead. Staring at his palms, he tried to recall. There was something he was trying to remember… something from that day a few weeks ago, when he'd suffered more pain than at any time during the war itself. It was something he'd thought of, something he'd wanted so desperately that it had woken something deep inside him. He dug his nails into his palms—recalling these memories was causing sharp pains in his temple as he tried to unseal them. "Then who is it?" Zuko's voice was beginning to sound exasperated. The faint sound of shouts was quickly growing louder, and Sokka knew that it wouldn't be long before the room was swarming with soldiers. Too little too late, dudes. Baddie already defeated.

His lips cracked apart as he started to speak. His mouth was impossibly dry and he was finding it hard to choose the right words. Funny, he'd been so carefree earlier during the fight—he'd even been teasing Zuko. Now, when it finally came down to it, he was finding it hard to talk about what he knew. How he knew. What had happened to him. With sudden clarity, the ripples in his mind settled and he restarted. "Zuko…" he began again, "you remember that day…" he trailed off and Zuko nodded and glanced away with a pained look. Sokka didn't need to specify. They both knew what he was referring to. There wasn't exactly more than one day when he'd dragged himself home a few steps away from death. "Well, there was this one point when…I was kind of…hurting, and I-I thought about something. It seems a little weird to tell you this now, but…" Sokka shrugged and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "I thought about you and it made the pain…o.k.," he mumbled out in a rush. Zuko's eyebrows knit together as he tried to decipher Sokka's mutter. Sokka flushed. His mind hadn't pieced it all together when he'd first remembered, but it was painfully obvious now why he'd thought of Zuko at that time. His subconscious had been trying to tell him what he'd only just now realized. That he was hopelessly, madly in love with his best friend. Who was the Fire Lord. Who, consequently, had a penis.

Who had ever said love was simple? They must have been drinking cactus juice.

A whuffing noise came from their left. Both boys looked over at the man kneeling on the ground. After a moment, Sokka finally registered that the little assassin was _laughing_. His chuckle turned into a full-bellied laugh as he roared. "What your…friend…is NOT telling you Fire _Lord _Zuko," he sneered at them, "is that he cried like a little Water Tribe bitch the first time I sliced him." Zuko's eyes shot to Sokka's face. Horror from the dawning realization was quickly spreading across his face. When he'd recounted his story for Iroh and Zuko, he'd glazed over the part that involved Rat Face, but Zuko wasn't dumb and he had filled in the blanks based on Sokka's injuries. Sokka met his eyes a moment before desperately looking at the little man, willing his next words to not come out. There was no way he could shut him up in time. "And the little fag kept screaming your name, 'Zuko! Zuko!', when I peeled his skin back like a grape—" He was cut off with a little squeal as Zuko launched himself, flattening the man.

There was no other way to describe it—Zuko had snapped. Sokka stared in shock as Zuko's fist flew back again and again. The man's face was quickly beginning to resemble rotten fruit. Sokka had never seen someone go berserk—well, other than what Katara had told him about Azula's final hours as Fire Lord. He was pretty sure that this might be what it looked like. A fine spray of blood misted up as one of Zuko's fists crushed the rebel's nose. The sword and the knife fell from his fingertips, clattering to the ground.

Sokka wasn't sure how long he stood there watching as Zuko slowly beat the man to death, before he finally snapped out of it. Shouting, he ran up and linked his arms under Zuko's, grabbing him by the shoulders in a lock and pulling them backwards with all of his weight. "Zuko! Stop it! We need him alive!" Zuko struggled to get out of the lock that Sokka held him in, his hands reaching manically for the bloody mess of the rebel. "Zuko, please!" He pulled them backwards so that they tumbled onto their butts. For a moment they just sat there, Zuko panting heavily as he leaned back on him. "Please," Sokka whispered again. After a few half-hearted attempts to break the hold, Zuko finally relaxed against him.

"I want to kill him." His words were flat and quiet. "I want to rip each part of his body off, piece by piece, starting with his fingers. Then I want to burn him until even his bones are just…" Sokka was shaking. The emotions from the memories, the adrenaline from the fight, Zuko's words…it was all suffocating. The things coming out of Zuko's mouth were… Well, frankly, they were pretty gross if you actually envisioned it. Still, Sokka couldn't help but feel disturbingly happy that Zuko had thought up all those terrible things because of him. He immediately felt guilty for this little happiness. Sokka's sanity? Check. Right where he left it. Completely sunk off the deep end, with a boulder tied to its feet.

Resting his cheek on the back of Zuko's head he chuckled wearily. What a fucked up day. Loosening his hold, he slid his arms around Zuko's chest into a hug. "…you're a sick guy, you know. But it's ok. Makes me feel loved." Zuko's breathing slowed down and before Sokka knew it, their breathing was steady and in sync. Neither was worried about the rebel. He wouldn't be moving for a while. Shit, hopefully he was still alive. Whatever information they could extract from him could be critical. Sokka buried his face in the back of Zuko's hair. Everything the rebel had said was true. He had called Zuko's name—over, and over again. Because, deep down—he'd held on to some foolish hope that Zuko would magically know he was hurting and come to his rescue. It was ridiculous and impractical, but all he'd wanted was to see that silly, awkward face again.

They sat there until the voices that had been drawing increasingly closer spilled through the first doorway. Damn, these halls must have carried sound well because Sokka could have sworn he'd been hearing them shouting for ten minutes now. Sokka had just started to move out from behind him when Zuko grabbed his arms, digging his fingers into his biceps to prevent him from pulling away. Twisting in the circle they created, he slid his hands to Sokka's wrists and knelt in front of him. His expression was such a mixture of intensity and earnestness that Sokka just looked at him. The thought of escaping didn't even register. "Sokka, I…"

Whatever Zuko had been about to say was lost as Iroh and about a dozen soldiers burst through the ruined doorway. Sokka quickly scrambled away from Zuko and shot to the other side of the room, pacing nervously before he realized what he was doing and forced himself to stop. His heart was fluttering like crazy. Zuko sat back on his butt and leaned on his elbows for a moment, looking up at the ceiling before calmly rising to his feet and dusting himself off. "Zukooo!" Iroh shouted out, making a beeline for him. Halfway across the room, he skidded to a halt. "You two…it's just you two…" pointing at them, he looked back and forth between their faces. A black look shadowed across his normally happy features. Even Zuko took a step back as all the air seemed to be vacuumed out of the room and into Iroh. The force of Iroh's anger was tangible and the room took on the feeling of a pressure cooker. Sokka was angry about the lack of backup too, but he almost felt sorry for the soldiers as Iroh whirled around and stalked up to the nervous bunch that had followed him in.

"Who was on duty." Iroh spoke calmly, but his voice cracked out like a steel whip. He held his arms behind his back, and despite his short stature, he seemed to completely tower over every man and woman standing before him.

"S-sir, it was—Shuto and Kang, sir." A soldier stuttered out nervously while staring straight ahead.

"Someone make sure the assassin is secured," Iroh snapped, "And find Shuto and Kang." The soldiers shifted feet and glanced uneasily between each other. "Move!" Iroh snarled. The soldiers scattered. Sokka let out a low whistle between his teeth. There certainly was a reason Iroh had been such a great general. He forgot sometimes when the old man seemed so silly, going on about tea—but when it came to Zuko's life, he didn't play. He had even given up his dream of a tea house in the Earth Kingdom to stay by Zuko's side during the initial period of transition and from there he had just kind of stuck around.

"Uncle. This is not Zhen. And I am not injured in my armpit, so please put my hand down." Iroh, who had been checking Zuko over like a mother hen, reluctantly released Zuko's arm. He gazed over at the little assassin, who lay unmoving in the middle of the room, with a look of curiosity.

"Nephew, may I ask how you know this already? Or perhaps Sokka was able to recognize him." The last sentence was more of a statement rather than question, as Iroh had already deduced the answer from Sokka's averted eyes. "I am not sure what happened here, but let us only hope he survives. Judging from the room, I'd say he's the one who favors knives, which I will also assume explains some of his…_facial_ injuries am I right, Zuko?" Zuko nodded tersely. There wasn't a shred of remorse on his face. Iroh sighed. "We need to get as much information out of him as possible. This may have been a lucky break, after all."

While Zuko filled Iroh in on what had happened, Sokka wandered back over to the little rebel who was newly restrained in Fire Nation manacles. The Fire Nation soldiers had removed his weapons and Sokka blinked at the number of knives that he'd still had on his person. That had to have been enough metal to supply a forge for a month. Crouching above him, Sokka studied the man's features, or at least what he could make out of them. Zuko really hadn't held back at all. One eye was swollen shut and the other was just a slit, but he gazed up at Sokka without blinking. Blood oozed out of cuts on his face from Zuko's knuckles. After they had stared each other down for about a minute, Sokka finally broke the silence. "Who are you, really?" he questioned in a low voice.

The little man just grinned and Sokka gagged. He looked like a bloated carcass smiling up at him with broken teeth coated in blood. A thought struck Sokka. The man was skilled, but he was not in this gig as an assassin. He was a behind-the-scenes kind of guy. Why had he been there? Why had he been there, especially when everyone had been under the impression that Sokka and Zuko were going to be in meetings all day? Suddenly alert, Sokka looked around the room—_really_ looked—for the first time. He'd been so swept up by the battle that he hadn't bothered to take note of the state of the room. Naturally, it was a total wreck where they had been fighting, mostly in the large common area around the bed, and near the balcony and entrance to the bathroom. The other side of the room though, with the writing desk and door to the wardrobe, was completely trashed. Even taking into consideration the damage he'd done when crossing the room and leaping over the bed, there was still obvious signs of disturbance. Drawers hung out of side tables and the door to the wardrobe was cracked. He'd been looking for something.

Eyes wide and focused, he looked back down at the rebel. Fisting both his hands in the man's shirt, he lifted him off the ground. "Why were you here? What the fuck were you looking for?" Sokka hissed. The man just kept grinning up at him like a demented corpse.

"Sir! Iroh, sir! We've found Shuto and Kang! They were in the other room…The man trailed off as the entire room froze and stared at him. "They're, um, they're dead…sir." His mouth flopped open like a fish and he stuttered, "Sir…they were shot with arrows."

"Arrows?" Zuko tilted his head with a confused look, "Don't you mean knives? This guy doesn't have any arrows…SHIT! SOKKA!" Zuko shouted and lunged towards him, but he was on the other side of the room. Sokka's mind was whirling as he stared down in surprise at the blood gushing onto his hands and dripping onto his feet. It wasn't his, though. He still held the little man up by his shirt, but now the demented grin really was coming from a corpse. Sokka took one look at the two arrows protruding straight through the man's neck to the other side and dropped flat to the ground, yanking the guards down beside him. A little scream pierced the air as the soldier standing to his right did not move in time and caught the arrow in his hip.

Leaping up, Sokka screamed at Zuko to get down as the door to the wardrobe burst open completely and Blondie rolled out, aiming his crossbow straight at Zuko. This was bad. Zuko had been crossing the room towards him, and now he was completely unprotected in the middle of the large open bedroom. Without thinking, Sokka grabbed the ivory handled knife he'd discarded earlier and let it fly. His aim was off and it sank into Blondie's thigh. It wasn't enough to take him down, but it was enough to distract him for a moment until Iroh caught up and had shoved a cursing Zuko out of the way. With a hiss, Blondie swept his gaze around the room and after a quick assessment, started to run towards the balcony. Sokka sprang into motion—he had to catch the guy before he got away! The guards, true to their military background, also sprang into action and were hot on Sokka's heels. The blonde rebel was impossibly fast, even with a giant knife protruding from his leg. At the edge of the balcony, he paused and looked back at Sokka who was stretching out his arm. Just a few more steps and he'd be able to grab a fistful of the rebel's shirt… Their eyes locked but it was broken a moment later as the rebel ducked to avoid a blast of flame. Turning and leaping onto the railing, he stood and simply walked off the balcony. Sokka snatched at his vest as he made it to the railing, but he was too late. Zuko's room was located on the fourth floor or so—there was absolutely no way that he could survive that jump.

Sokka's jaw dropped as Blondie hit the ground, rolling to offset the impact. After a moment, the man struggled to his feet. Turning to look up at Sokka, he grasped the hilt of the knife and with a quick jerk, yanked it from his leg. Turning slowly, he started to limp then started to jog. An alarm was now sounding throughout the palace, and Sokka could see soldiers running towards the grounds that Zuko's bedroom overlooked. Guards flanked his left and right, leaning over the stone railing and shouting at one another in frustration. Sokka started to take a step backwards, preparing to jump off the balcony in pursuit when a pair of hands grabbed him roughly and pulled him back.

"What the fuck did you think you were going to do!" Zuko shouted.

"I was going to follow him, Zuko! The guy just tried to kill you!" Sokka tugged at his arm. There was still time to catch up, while Blondie had that injury.

"Sokka. The man just flew off a balcony, right?" Sokka glared at him and raised an eyebrow as if to say, _Really? I couldn't tell_. "Sokka. You are a great fighter. But you are one of the clumsiest people I know." Sokka opened his mouth to protest, "Zzzt. Don't say anything. Toph already told me about the time you got stuck in a crack while hunting. Then you almost got attacked by a sabertooth moose lion. Then you had to get shot out the ground by Toph. What did you really think was going to happen when you took a swan dive off that balcony?" Zuko was so frank that Sokka's mouth snapped closed. He winced as he recalled the memory. The man did have a point.

"I think they were looking for something, Zuko." Zuko's eyes shot around the room before he nodded in agreement.

"I see that," he murmured. "The question is, what were they looking for—and did they find it." Iroh joined them.

"The rebel you captured is dead, although you may have already deduced that on your own. I believe this is an indication more than ever that you two need to retreat _now_. There is an air balloon prepped and waiting for you. We need to take control of this situation immediately—we lost two soldiers today, and one is severely injured. We cannot risk having innocent people hurt should something like this happen again. Not when there is an opportunity to put this fight on our terms." Sokka sighed with weariness and nodded. Hopefully the balloon ride would be short. He really needed to make it to a bed before he passed out. He was incredibly worn out. His bicep was burning, it felt like it was on fire. With a start, he realized it was Zuko's hand—Zuko still hadn't let go of his other arm. The heat curled up through his arm and into his belly. He hadn't realized that biceps were such sensitive places. Sokka chomped down on his inside cheek and beat down his libido. What the fuck was it doing acting up now? He'd heard stories from the other Water Tribe soldiers of experiences they'd had post-battle when they'd been really, well, horny. Apparently it was some reaction to surviving a near-death experience that made one want to feel alive. Very alive. With another person.

His body was reacting as Zuko's rough fingertips absentmindedly scraped the soft skin of his underarm. Sokka squeaked. "Sokka, are you ok?" He looked up and found Zuko's worried face a few inches from his own. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Proximity way too close. Well, if he'd had any doubts whatsoever about his little revelation earlier, they were pretty much gone now. It was like once he'd admitted the possibility, the floodgates on his imagination had opened. And his hormones. Couldn't forget those pesky fuckers. As Zuko reached up towards his face, Sokka gulped. Yep. He was a goner. In desperation, he smacked Zuko's hand away and jerked out of his grasp. If his body reacted any more, there would be no way he could explain it.

"S-sorry. I'm still a little hyped up from the battle." A look of relief replaced the one of surprise on Zuko's face and he nodded.

"Yeah, me too. We better grab our stuff, Sokka. We have to get moving. Do you have everything together that you need in the other room?" Sokka nodded. Zuko gave an approving nod in response. "Good. I need to talk to Uncle about some of the arrangements, but be ready to go in two minutes." Sokka nodded again. He was starting to feel like his head was attached to a spring, bouncing up and down. As Zuko grabbed Iroh's elbow and they exchanged hushed whispers, Sokka looked around the room once more.

For the first time, he noticed how much damage they'd inflicted on Zuko's bedroom. It was going to need a lot of work before it was livable again. There were knives—so many knives, and darts, and daggers, all just protruding from the walls like really strange decorations. It kinda reminded Sokka of the place he'd heard the maids whispering about once. Apparently, after the war, the strict moral code had loosened up a little bit in the capital and an influx of a new breed of "vendor" had popped up. Some of the vendors were harmless, like the ones that sold Iroh's risqué teacups. Absently, Sokka wondered again just what kind of cups Zuko had seen that had had him blushing like that a couple days ago. In any case, there were other stores that sold things that were…a little less innocent. Curiosity had driven him to investigate the shop that the maids were giggling about. He'd gotten about three steps into the store before he'd been back outside, wheezing with his head between his legs. He'd never known that so many people were into such things. The knives peppering the walls reminded him of that kinky sex dungeon and his mouth twisted. He just didn't really get the attraction. He couldn't really picture Zuko ever…

Sokka's mouth went dry as the desert. Oh shit. No no no no no, he had NOT just had that thought. Damn! Fuck! He yanked on the hair on his head. There it was again, etched into his brain. His libido sat on a bench in his mind, giggling. His libido had been waiting for this opportunity to arise, apparently. It had already had the mental image subconsciously prepared, adapted from when Zuko had been imprisoned in the Boiling Rock. All the breath whooshed out of him as the picture popped into his head. Zuko, looking at him through that thick, black hair, stalking him as he tugged half-heartedly against the chains. WAIT a minute—how the hell had SOKKA gotten into the chains? _Change it back! Change it back!_ He screamed at his libido. Had all this really been lurking in his subconscious? Just how long had he been repressing his feelings?

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was standing in the middle of a room where they had just fought for their lives with a dead body on his left, an assassin still at large, and one blonde rebel who had managed to completely evade capture—with _ease—_and all he could think about was having sweaty, kinky dungeon sex with Zuko. Something was absolutely, unquestionably wrong with him. Miserable, he stared at the space between the four poster bed frame and the trunk at the foot of it. It was the perfect size to wedge Space Sword Jr into. Impaling himself was suddenly becoming even more appealing. Maybe there was still time to swan dive off the balcony.

He had finally gotten his pulse under check—and his lower half too. Thoughts of Gran Gran could do that for a man. It was completely ruined when Zuko stalked back over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Ready to go?" he asked. Sokka went stiff so quickly, he had to catch himself before he fell over like a wooden plank. With a squeak, he nodded furiously. Zuko gave him a strange look before turning to leave through the busted door. Once he'd gagged and handcuffed his libido with the surprisingly handy accessories from his fantasy earlier, Sokka was finally composed enough to follow. This was going to be a long balloon ride.

**No joke, there will seriously be new characters next chapter. I hadn't counted on this scene taking up so much room.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Greetings, my long-lost readers! I want to start this off with an apology. I AM SORRY. I AM SO SO SORRY. I did not mean to be gone this long. There were a lot of external factors since last July working against me. One last CPA exam, a new job, my first busy season in public accounting, death in the family, a mild case of writer's block, and the travesty that just occurred on May 8****th**** in my home state of NC. Two things kept me going: YOU and all of your really encouraging reviews and MAXINE (Maxine101), my wonderful wonderful Beta. She stuck with me through thick and thin, listened to me when I was going through a lot with my family, and is basically just a kick-ass human being. You have her to thank for a lot fewer mistakes, better flow, awesome ideas, etc. This chapter goes out to her, please give her your love, too!**

**I really REALLY hope that this chapter will make up for the long absence, although it is not as exciting as the last chapter (Forgive me! There was just really no way to make it as action-packed because that would have been awkward in the flow of the whole plot). I look forward to everyone's thoughts and thank you so much for sticking with me. Jeezy Creezy I'm nervous.**

**I just realized while looking at my story stats (yes, I have been stalking all you readers), that this chapter is... exceptionally long compared to the first seven. Heh heh. Whoops.**

**E's Playlist during this chapter: Edge of Heaven, Breath Carolina; Not Your Fault, AWOLNATION; Young Blood, The Naked and Famous; It's Time, Imagine Dragons; Around My Head, Cage the Elephant**

Sokka backed into his room on the airship awkwardly with his two bags slung criss-cross over his chest, struggling to keep a third off the ground. There was no way he was going to need all of this stuff, but Iroh had over-packed for him. According to the old fire-bender, one never knew where the path of one's life would take you, and should you be finding yourself in need of a formal tea ceremony robe, Iroh believed in being 100% prepared. Sokka wasn't so convinced. Holding the heavy metal door open with his hip, he heaved the luggage over the high threshold and into the dark cabin. A shiver worked its way up his spine when the musty dank smell of the cramped quarters hit his nose. No matter how fancy these machines were decorated, they always felt (and smelled) like an ice cellar.

It was no small amount of relief when he slung the larger bag up on a side table bolted to the wall. Dumping his shoulder bags unceremoniously onto the ground with a thunk, he collapsed face-first onto the mattress. His body sunk into the welcoming down, eliciting an involuntary groan of pleasure. The plush feather comforter was positively _decadent_. He hadn't exactly been roughing it while sleeping in the Fire Lord's chambers and everything, but his bruised and battered body felt like he'd spent a month sleeping on the hard ground whilst chasing bandits across the four nations.

He felt his visitor enter rather than hearing him, as the well-oiled door swung to a shuddering close. A slippered foot poked him in the thigh, forcing a grunt out of him.

"You alive?" Zuko's raspy voice was laced with amusement. Sokka flopped a limp hand in response. "Where's your wash bag? I think Uncle put some of my soap into your stuff instead of mine." Sokka flicked a finger towards the light blue canvas sac closest to the bed without lifting his head. "You know, you should probably give a bath some serious consideration too; you smell like boarcupine shit and you look like Foggy Swamp Tribe." It was an epic struggle, but he managed to lift his entire arm into the air, along with a solitary middle finger. Zuko gave an un-Fire Lord like snort. "Suit yourself, Water Tribe." Sokka grunted again as a hard, grimy ball of fabric hit the back of his head and settled next to his face. It had a truly unpleasant fragrance oozing off of it.

Unable to stop himself, he cracked the corner of his eye in time to see a broad back unbend from rifling through his pack. Pale skin danced over muscles as they stretched and contracted. Sokka buried his face again as Zuko turned towards the door and slipped through the thick steel port, presumably off to showers unknown. As soon as the metal slammed shut again with a ringing finality, Sokka winced and shifted his hips uncomfortably to try to release some of the pressure that had been growing in his lower regions ever since he'd come off the adrenaline high of battle. Zuko's presence just now had only managed to exacerbate his problem. Plenty of men had succumbed to this same strange little quirk but this was his first time really experiencing it.

After a few seconds of consideration, Sokka hopped off the bed and padded to the metal door and slid the bolt into place. He flopped back onto the mattress and decided to take pity on himself, if he could even really call it that. The knot in his belt easily slipped loose and he worked his hand into the coarse trousers. It didn't take long before the image of Zuko's pale skin sprang unbidden into his mind. His body became perceptively harder, if possible. With a hiss, Sokka grasped himself and ran a thumb roughly over the tip. He shuddered at the sensation and with only a moment's hesitation, the swordsman unleashed his imagination.

Two broad hands tugged his unfastened trousers down to his ankles and pushed his knees apart. Amber eyes caught and held his gaze, watching every involuntary twitch of his face as pale fingers lightly traced down the tanned skin where his chest was exposed. The striking contrast between the alabaster hand and his dark skin was heady and the teen sucked in a ragged breath as he watched the fingers dance across collarbone, down to his nipples, and then even farther down to his trembling stomach, leaving firey tattoos in their wake. Sokka's heart was thumping heavily against his ribcage and his eyelids flickered when Zuko's long fingers traced the sensitive ridge of muscle from the top of his hip to his groin.

Sokka was shocked at how vivid the latent fantasies being suppressed in his subconscious were, just waiting for this moment to manifest.

Every muscle in his body was contracting, trembling with anticipation. He was so hard he ached and he really had to hold it together before the fantasy ended too soon. Sokka watched helplessly as Zuko coaxed open the edges of his shirt, revealing an expanse of caramel flesh burning to be touched. He almost came when Zuko's hands grasped his hips and dug into the tender flesh before sliding up his slender waist.

With a growl, the fire-bender dropped to his hands and knees and stalked up the length of Sokka's body. Capturing the glazed blue eyes once more, the pale teen watched his face intensely as he rested his elbows on either side of Sokka's head, trapping him inside a plush cage of feathers and body heat. Without any further warning, the fire lord lowered his hips to meet Sokka's sweat-slicked skin and thrust upwards.

A high-pitched keen escaped his throat as his head slammed back into the mattress. Zuko was so _hot_ it was igniting his skin, turning his insides to liquid. The sweet friction was causing other sparks to flare low in his belly and he struggled against the intense pressure was building up behind his eyes.

Sokka's pulse jumped even higher when he felt the aristocratic nose brushing the over-sensitized skin at the base of his neck. The keening turned into a low moan when the fire lord's lips dragged a hot, sloppy wet path up the column of his neck, breathing him in deeply and nipping at the tender flesh. The entire time, the slim hips above his had been keeping up a steady but punishing rhythm, sliding slippery flesh together with delicious results. Sokka almost became completely undone when he felt the breath tickling his ear as that luscious mouth latched onto the sensitive shell and bit down gently on the cartilage.

He couldn't suppress it anymore when that same mouth let out a deep, carnal growl that shot straight through a direct connection between his ear to his throbbing hardness. One snowy hand lifted off the bed and reached between them while the other braced against the headboard, grasping both members together in the broad palm and _pulling_. Before he knew it, his back was arching off the mattress and he spilling into Zuko's hand, hot and sticky.

As his body continued to convulse with the intense release, Sokka collapsed back into the bed, panting and unable to move. The fantasy Zuko his imagination had conjured hovered above him for a second before disappearing as the glow of his orgasm wore off. Sokka was left alone on the bed, feeling empty, wet and kinda pathetic. Sweat was cooling rapidly on his body and he shivered. Staring at the aftermath in disgust, Sokka quickly finished shedding his shirt and cleaned off the guilty evidence from his lower half and palm.

The entire sticky bundle was tossed into a corner as he gingerly tiptoed across the room to unbolt the door. Racing back to the warmth of the covers, Sokka threw an arm over drooping eyes and mulled over his most recent life changes. They were fighting for their lives with a quasi-unknown enemy, headed to a secluded villa in the rural regions of north-western Fire Nation territory. A spirit was playing practical jokes on them and the best part was that he was getting his ass handed to him on a regular basis. Add on top of that the fact that he'd just jacked off while thinking about his best friend mere hours after he'd come to realize he loved him.

He was going to have to invest in some much stronger tea. Glancing at his discarded shirt in the corner, he sighed. And probably some extra tunics.

xxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxx

"Sokka. Sokka." He was rocking gently on Appa's back in time with the bison's giant breaths. Katara didn't have any sense of what made a decent hour of the morning. The rocking became more insistent until Sokka finally jerked himself up onto his elbows irritably and blinked at the dim light. "Sokka" the voice whispered insistently.

"Wusssss goin' on?" he mumbled. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper. "Tell Aang if he's asking me to show him that damn birth mark on my ass one more time I'm gonna take my sword. And I'ma shove it up his ass." Sokka struggled to crack one eyelid open. The other one was stubbornly sealed shut. It tasted like something had died in his mouth.

There was a silent pause before the voice asked curiously, "You have a birthmark? ….on your ass?"

"_Yes_, Katara," he whined desperately, "Of course I do. You've seen it, like, thousands of times. Shaped like a little koalaotter. Could you piss off now? That'd be A+. Good night." He had to cling to the fog of sleep before it completely escaped him or he would never get back to bed.

A throat cleared. "And uh, can you remind me how exactly it is that, uh, Aang has seen it? I think I forgot." the last bit sounded a little strangled. Sokka frowned, processing the words. Using his one open eye, he contemplated his hand a moment before lifting it to his face and vigorously scrubbing. He finally managed to get some semblance of full vision going and stared hard at the dark figure looming over the side of his bed. "Can _I _see it?" Sokka shot straight up. After a few desperate moments of intense focusing, Sokka flicked his eyes downward toward the thing he'd been sleeping on and confirmed his worst suspicions. Definitely a bed. If it was definitely a bed, then it was most certainly not Appa. And if this wasn't Appa, then that probably wasn't Katara.

With agonizing slowness, Sokka raised his eyes to the frank amber gaze staring at him with rabid curiosity. Dropping them back down, he studied the bright red sash in front of him like it held all the answers to the universe. Maybe if he ignored the question he could pretend like this had never happened.

Swallowing hard, he slowly ventured, "So uh, I guess there's no way to convince you that you didn't hear that, is there." It wasn't even a question. Zuko opened his mouth to respond then snapped it shut and settled on slowly shaking his head side to side. He grimaced in response. "We're here already?" The head roll moved to a nod.

Face burning, Sokka rolled off the bed onto his knees and began gathering the soiled clothing he'd managed to discard sometime during his nap. Glancing over his shoulder, he lost his balance and hit his head on the side of the bed as he caught Zuko staring pointedly at his ass. It was a wonder his pants weren't catching on fire.

"Zuko." He said firmly, "We are best friends. There are many, many things that we share. Food. Clothing. A personal distaste for neo-modern Earth Kingdom paintings. An intimate familiarity with my ass is not one of them." Mostly because he was desperately afraid his body would insist on an 'I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours' moment. He tried not to relive his guilty little thrill from the night before. Certain parts of his anatomy were slowly stirring to life at the memory.

Zuko pouted and looked away. Sokka began to gather his things in relative peace until a mutter almost made him drop his bundle of clothing. "…I bet Toph's seen it."

Zuko easily ducked the boot Sokka threw at his head. "Toph's blind, dipshit. Out." He was smothering a laugh, but pointed to the door in relief. He was fiercely happy to have a reason to run the other man off before things got embarrassing. Zuko grumbled as he levered himself off of the wall where he'd been propped, practically dragging his feet behind him. His expression wouldn't have looked out of place on a five year old in timeout.

With Zuko out of the room, Sokka made swift work of packing the few things the firebender had pulled out when they'd first arrived. For all his dread of the balloon ride, it seemed he had slept through almost the entirety of it.

Slinging his two bags back over his shoulders with a weary sense of déjà vu, he poked his head out of the door and into the hallway. Zuko was now leaning against the metal wall of the corridor, arms crossed in front of his chest and lost in thought. Sokka felt the coil of lust begin to unwind in his belly again. If he stared too long he was going to get a stomach ache. Ducking back inside, he grabbed his big bag with both hands and slid it off of the table. It landed painfully across his shins but he managed to keep it upright. Holding the door open was more of a challenge this time around as his body had grown stiff during sleep. The Fire Lord quirked an eyebrow at the overstuffed luggage.

"Iroh," Sokka grunted. Zuko grimaced in sympathy. Pushing off of the wall, he pried the handle out of Sokka's fingers and after a brief struggle, Sokka released the bag reluctantly. Tossing it over his shoulder almost effortlessly, Zuko started down the hallway, earning a nasty glare from Sokka who trailed behind.

Water Tribe men were warriors through and through. Showing any sign of weakness was something that had been relentlessly, sometimes ruthlessly, beaten out of them. Even over the past few days and despite his significantly accelerated recovery, Sokka was still finding himself focusing over half his energy on keeping the signs of his physical distress to a minimum, if not undetectable. It may have been imperceptible, just a friend helping another friend with their luggage, but he was still left with a sense of unease after years of Water Tribe training. He trusted Zuko implicitly in his choice of guards to accompany them but in the current situation nothing was a given.

They made their way onto the open-air deck as the balloon dipped low into the mountain range. If the cold gust of air hadn't already done it, the sight around them would have been absolutely breathtaking. The balloon swept through low-hanging patches of mist over lush forests that stretched for miles and miles. Emerald trees slowly gave way to snow-kissed mountain peaks that looked as dangerous as they were beautiful.

The wind whipped around his head, snagging strands of hair out of his messy wolf's tail and lashing them into his face. The air here smelled so much crisper, cleaner than anything around the Capital City with its industrialized towers and mechanical tang. The swordsman felt practically giddy with excitement. His blood sang at the very prospect of running through the woods more wild, and free than he'd been able to be in months.

Smoke that curled lazily over the lowest ridge directly ahead of the vessel was the first sign of civilization, and their destination. As they crested the ridge, Zuko and Sokka stood side by side at the railing of the deck in comfortable silence. The scene unfolding before them was enough to provide Sokka a welcome momentary distraction. The village was nestled in a deep valley cradled between two of the tallest peaks.

The rough dirt path beneath them meandered up towards the village with the swells of the land rather than cutting straight through them. Drawing closer, he began to pick out recognizable buildings – a forge, a storehouse with a number of silos clustered nearby, a livery where he could pick out pens of ostrich horses, eel hounds and even a single dragon moose lion. A bustling cluster of open-front buildings had to be the market. Sokka's mouth twitched in an involuntary grin. Where there was a market, there was shopping. The smallest villages always had the best stuff, too.

About half a mile from the village proper, the winding road began to turn into a cobbled city street. All of the businesses were clustered off of this main road, with roughly two rows of houses lined up behind both sides. The houses were simple and sturdy, with thatched roofs of golden wheat and solid wood lapped siding set on stone foundations. There seemed to be an inordinate number of houses in proportion to the mercantile areas.

For all their practicality, the business and houses all shared one feature in common: large panes of glass started from the foundation and reached the tops of the doors. Each window was made up of mottled colors: panes of green, blue, red, yellow, clear, all thrown haphazardly together. The overall effect was of twinkling bursts of color that caught the light from the steadily dropping sun, bathing the streets in a flickering rainbow.

A flock of small children ran up the street, tripping over each other and the uneven stones in excitement as the giant metal contraption barreled above them. Their wild peals of laughter echoed up the street, erupting into enthusiastic cheers when Sokka, grinning, lifted an arm in a giant wave as the balloon swiftly surpassed them.

Looking back toward the front of the ship, he caught Zuko sneaking a peek at him from the corner of his eye. The firebender quickly looked away but couldn't quite smother the smile on his face. Within moments, they reached the city courtyard at the top of the village. They all looked up as the balloon approached, but much to Sokka's surprise they weren't slowing down.

He wasn't entirely certain what he expected, but he had never been to a mountain-side villa before. It should have occurred to him that it wouldn't have been part of the bustling town, but instead set farther up and away. His eyes followed the small road that led out from the town courthouse and slid through the trees above the village. He was rewarded when the forest cleared once again to reveal giant, rolling fields. This was no ostentatious royal beach house like where they had squatted during the war, this was a working vineyard and estate winery.

Sokka chided himself inwardly. He should have expected no less from Ursa, or from Zuko. Acres upon acres of the open land were covered in neat rows of trellises. The lines of vines looked like they had been drawn down the hills with the teeth of a giant comb. Workers were scattered in the aisles, moving slowly from plant to plant tending the spindly trunks. The disproportionate number of houses to businesses was suddenly no longer a mystery.

The balloon finally crawled to a halt, hovering over a patio next to the stable where various ostrich horses were being lead out equipped with baskets of tools and various supplies slung over their haunches. Before they could drop the ramp, Sokka ignored the pain in his body and grabbed hold of the rail, vaulting over the edge and onto the brick below. He landed in a crouch, wincing as his injured leg screaming in protest and settled into a dull, throbbing twinge. The crossed bags on his shoulders were still heavy and it took a moment to completely straighten.

He almost went down again when his bloated duffel bag landed to his left, followed shortly after by a graceful fire-bender loaded with an assortment of supplies. Sokka eyeballed Zuko almost enviously as he landed and uncoiled immediately with absolutely no effort or sign of physical exertion. Irritation was quickly replaced when he spied a particularly ugly ostrich horse over his friend's shoulder. There was something naggingly familiar about the unfortunate looking creature. The feathers around its face were permanently ruffled and stuck up at odd angles, giving the animal a crazed appearance. As if sensing his attention, the sharp eyes snapped towards him and the beast clacked its beak repeatedly in what had to be the ostrich horse version of a maniacal chuckle.

When a ragged ear flicked sideways to dislodge a fly, Sokka suddenly knew where he'd seen that foul horse before. Keeping his eyes locked with the beast's gaze, he took two steps sideways before turning and dashing towards the vaulted threshold that he really hoped would lead to the rest of the building. If that ostrich was here… Sokka shook his head. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but if it meant what he thought it meant, he was going to have to ditch some of his load so he could run faster.

Sokka heard his name being called out from behind him and as he struggled to discard his bags in the paved stone hallway. The teen cursed in frustration when the straps kept catching on the various toggles clasping his shirt together. Zuko skidded to a stop beside him and asked breathlessly, "Sokka-did you see-?"

Sokka grunted at him, unable to respond from both excitement and the frustration of being unable to untangle himself. Snapping, he reached behind him and yanked his outer tunic up and over his head, dumping the whole twisted mess onto the ground. He kicked it to the edge and allowed himself to be jerked forward by Zuko's hand, which was clamped around his bicep like an iron band. Zuko dragged Sokka behind him with the confidence of familiarity. Finally, Zuko skidded to a halt and grabbed his other forearm to keep the water tribe boy from sailing past.

"Kitchen." Sokka slapped his forehead. No shit.

Zuko let go and slid one hand down to clasp Sokka's palm and took off. Despite the platonic nature of the handhold, he caught himself blushing furiously. Spirits, he hoped his fingers weren't getting sweaty.

Sokka knew they were on the right path when they heard the first snort of obnoxious laughter. The search became a race as Zuko dropped all contact and the two boys pushed each other out of the way in their attempt to get to the kitchen entrance before the other. Zuko made it to the door first but overshot the entryway and slipped past it into a slide. He hopped up immediately but Sokka had already braced himself on the door jamb before he could completely recover. They fumbled with the handle, the fire-bender trying to wedge himself in front. In the end the door swung open abruptly and the two pitched forward into a heap of legs and arms on the floor.

"BAHAHAHA! What's up fuckers? What the hell took you two pansy asses so long to get here? By the way Zuko, this is some good shit your family makes up here. I've never had spiced wine before. Sokka, you look like a cart wreck. Dude, I heard you got your ass handed to you! You're getting way too soft without me around to toughen you up." The shit-eating grin on Toph's face as she slapped her bicep was one of the most beautiful things Sokka had scene in days. Suddenly, things didn't seem so impossible anymore as they were reunited with two more members of the old gang.

Despite her words, the smiles stretched across Toph and Chit Sang's faces as they sprawled out insolently in the chairs spoke greater volumes than anything else could have.

"Toph, ladylike as always." Zuko untangled himself from Sokka and rested on his forearms. His grin looked like it was one millimeter away from cracking his face as he stared up at her from the floor. "Chit Sang! You tired of life with the gremlin, yet-" The slate floor underneath Zuko's stomach jumped underneath him and he broke off, wheezing.

"Naw, man. Been like the son I never had." Zuko chuckled but looked faintly green.

Sokka basked in the feeling of the moment. The only thing that could penetrate his fog of happiness was one niggling question. "Hey Toph… why are you here?"

The earth-bender's expression sobered considerably, and she shared a solemn glance with her companion. "Well…" she began slowly, "this area has been pretty quiet for a while. Actually, for like, ever. I'm sure you remember from the good old days before you abandoned me for the life of a lapdog," Toph earned herself a nasty glare, "but there haven't been a lot of bandits in this area because it's so remote. Unfortunately, with the trade routes opening back up and the huge demand for the valley's wine, there's been an upswing in incidents on the roads and in the forests. Iroh sent us out here to join you guys, but we also need to check it out. I doubt this is related at all to your problem, but nothing's impossible." She shrugged a delicate shoulder.

Sokka nodded, business-like. This was good. I mean, it was bad, but it was really good. It would be easier to hold himself in check if they were too busy to think. "We have a lot of work to do on our end, but you know we'll lend you a hand if you need it, Toph." Toph nodded in understanding. They all had their own shit going down, that was fair. "Either way… I'm really glad you're both here!"

A faint blush crossed Toph's cheeks and since no sincere deed went unpunished, a whacking huge rock shot out of the wall and laid a solid hit upside Sokka's head.

"Whatever." Toph grumbled as Sokka blinked away the stars.

"You OK?" Zuko muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah. Who needs a skull anyway, right?" Zuko snickered and shoved him with his elbow. Sokka could feel the warmth radiating between their shoulders. He blushed and stared at the ground. After he'd cooled the flames of his face, he glanced back up at Toph and Chit Sang, who'd begun squabbling over the last piece of fireberry sweetbread. Toph's sightless eyes were staring in his direction with a piercing, narrow gaze. The moment passed quickly when Toph smacked Chit Sang's hand away from the pastry and let out a string of epithets, but it left a lingering uneasiness in Sokka's stomach.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Sokka raised an eyebrow in question (a useless gesture, but one Toph could probably pick up on it anyway). He began to push himself to his feet and dust off the fine dirt that had transferred from the stone floors onto the front of his clothes. "I took the liberty of procuring us some entertainment for tonight." Four fluttering red tickets with gaudy gold script were fanned out between her fingers. The look of half-amusement, half-dread on Chit Sang's face added to Sokka's growing sense of trepidation, and he shared a worried look with Zuko. Toph's idea of entertainment was often… questionable, at best. "I've been looking forward to this shit all week, so you two better clean your happy asses up by 8:00 tonight or I'm gonna keep your nuts in a jar. Forever. Iroh gave his blessing," she added happily. Iroh clearly trumped Fire Lord in Toph's book.

Shuffling closer cautiously, Sokka's worst fears were confirmed. He and Zuko shared twin looks of horror. He saw the Fire Lord's fingers twitch and sparks of flame fizzled off of his fingertips. Sokka fought the urge to grab Zuko's hand and use it as a fire starter, with the tickets as the kindling. It would have been a mercy killing.

The gleeful imp's grin was positively evil. "8:00 sharp, gentlemen."

Every choice bears a consequence. Every action returns an equal and deathly serious reaction – even when those reactions are not necessarily apparent or even seemingly related, at the time. Undoubtedly, the punishment of suffering through a night of the Ember Island Players' Musicale Especial was the direct result of some heinous crime he had committed during a past life.

It would have been nice if the villa staff had chosen to deliver his belongings to his room rather than the kitchen. Struggling into a room for the second time in less than 24 hours, Sokka took a moment to appreciate the rustic charm of his surroundings. Under different circumstances, this entire experience would have been something he could have appreciated to its fullest. As it was, his mind was racing with lists - lists of things that needed to be done, important details that needed further thought, ways to stay a step ahead of their enemies. Oh, and the way his back had so effectively memorized the contours of Zuko's chest in painstaking clarity. He gripped the leather handles tighter. If they were going to survive the next few weeks, he was going to have to cut these thoughts out of him like a cancer before they spread – distractions were deadly and in his particular case they were utterly pointless as well.

The room really was a vision of bucolic appeal, though. Wooden floorboards creaked as he moved towards the modest bed topped with a well-worn quilt. Sokka couldn't resist dropping his bag to finger the soft cotton cloth. Someone had taken a lot of time and care to piece that blanket together, and it was apparent in the construction. Sawtooth pinwheels zigzagged merrily in a cheery array of warm oranges, browns and rusty reds. As he knelt to rip open his bag, the faint scent of sunlight and crushed pine needles wafted pleasantly in his face from the open window.

The rest of the room was open and bright with afternoon sunlight filtering onto the roughly woven rugs. The only sound came from the forest outside and an old gold clock ticking away atop an old wooden dresser. The sound was rhythmic and soothing and Sokka felt himself relax a bit. An old painted rocking chair and a side table stacked with worn tomes were the only other furnishings the room had to offer. Sokka sighed and began to slowly relax his muscles, one by one.

Soon enough, he was resting lightly on the balls of his feet, feeling like he had shed 10 pounds and about 8 years of stress. At a much slower pace, he began dividing out his belongings into neat piles of related items. As he stacked his trousers and socks, the tips of his fingers grazed a small portrait set into a finely carved Water-Tribe style frame. He pulled out the picture and stared at the smiling faces of his sister and Aang. They had sat for this portrait less than 6 months ago, on their latest diplomatic visit to the Northern Water Tribe. He traced the strong lines of Katara's jaw and the top of Aang's big bald head.

A rueful lopsided grin picked at the corner of his mouth as he studied the happy couple. There sure was a lot he was missing out on, in his sister's life, in Aang's life - even in his father's life. It seemed so long ago that they had all been traveling together, a constant in each other's everyday routine. It had been rough but it had been good, and he allowed a moment of sadness for a chapter that had closed and would never be reopened. Obviously it was better this way. The four nations, or what was left of them, were better this way. But he could still look back on a lot of their adventures with fondness and, to be honest, some longing. With a shuddering sigh, he set the picture on the squat nightstand next to the small brass gas lamp.

Turning his attention back to his luggage, he became acutely aware that company had joined him. Apparently it was open season on entering his room unannounced. Toph was leaning against the doorway, and seemed to be watching his every movement. He almost felt chagrined at being caught in such a weak moment until he remembered. Yeah, he totally was not falling for that trick again. Hello – _blind_. Instead, he opted to flip her off.

Toph shifted her foot minutely and her lips twitched. "I can see that, you asshat." Sokka sneered and returned to unpacking. "These rooms are pretty comfy, huh." The way it was worded left Sokka little opportunity, or inclination, to respond. He opted for a manly grunt as he stuffed a couple piles into the dresser. Toph took this as invitation enough to fully enter the room and flop onto Sokka's bed, bouncing as the mattress adjusted to her weight.

"Sooo…" Toph studied her nails. Sokka frowned at her. Wasn't that kind of pointless? "You know if we get him drunk enough he might not be entirely unwilling. Shit, he may even be enthusiastic. I'd say I'll help if I get to watch but neither of us really gets a choice in that matter, unless you could strategically be swimming at the time." Not comprehending, Sokka stared at her for a few awkward moments before her words registered. He was fiercely thankful she could not see the delightful shade of red he had become.

Toph spread her hand out before her and tilted her head to the side. "I mean, let's be realistic. You are funny, loyal…funny, and um, a somewhat decent hunter, I guess, all of which I can admire—in a best friend." She swiveled her head to look at where Sokka was standing, mouth working overtime to impersonate a dying fish. "But face it, when it comes to men—_complicated_ men—you've got no game," Toph finished with a yawn.

"How…" His brain-to-mouth function seemed to have an irreparable glitch in it. Giving up on speech as a functional motor skill, Sokka sighed and joined the side of the bed where Toph was sitting. He slid to the floor and leaned his back against the mattress beside her slender legs.

"That obvious, huh?" his head came to rest against the tiny girl's knees.

"Yup," she popped the p for emphasis. It was a nice touch.

"You think I stand a chance?"

"Sure, just be yourself like when you're trying to charm a chick…just without being yourself. And he's not a chick."The earthbending master shrugged a delicate shoulder. A shoulder that could easily smash boulders, Sokka had to remind himself.

"Reassuring ,Toph, thanks," he muttered. Sokka tugged at a loose thread in the hem of his tunic. Toph knocked the pout right off his face with a sharp smack to the back of the head. Bells were ringing a merry tune in his ears and he turned to glare at her.

"Stop being such a baby, Snoozles." Toph's tone was sharp and reprimanding. "You probably have some dumb-ass idea that there's no way he'd like you, he's a guy, he's the Fire Lord, blah blah blah, stupid crap, stupid crap, stupid crap. Right? Bullshit! If you're writing him off before you give him a chance then your watery ass doesn't _deserve _him. Since the end of the war, when has Zuko done anything just because it was what everyone else expected? He doesn't. Besides having a great set of buns, Zuko does what's right because it is _right_, not because it's what everyone else thinks." She smacked him in the back of the head again. He was going to end up with a concussion if this conversation didn't end soon. "Why would you think love wouldn't count?"

Sokka tilted his head up and eyed her warily. "It's like you're grown up or something, but that can't be right, can it?"

"Naaa, na. You just imagined it."

Sokka nodded uneasily and kept her in the corner of his vision.

"Besides," he looked at her sharply, "I wanna know who tops." Sokka stared at her. Toph stared right back. "Crazy. It's like I can actually see the wheels in your mind turning, Snoozles." Top…topping…dear spirits. He'd never even considered that. He cleared his throat.

"Now don't get all bent out of shape right now, that's just gross. You gotta get unpacked so that we can get to our concert tonight!" Toph rubbed her hands together in anticipation as Sokka watched in disbelief. She sprung off the bed and dashed for the door in girlish excitement. It was positively disturbing.

Sokka asked a question that had been nagging him. "Hey… how do you know what his ass looks like, anyway?"

"Pffft, are you kidding? I'm blind but even through the Earth I can tell you could bounce a copper piece off of that butt." Her smile was predatory. "I've tested that theory, too." Sokka gave her a weak smile.

When she was almost out the door, Toph paused and turned back to face him. Her face had dropped all traces of humor.

"I didn't mention this earlier but I do think you should know and Zuko needs to know, too, that Iroh didn't call for me and Chit Sang just to keep you guys company, help you torture prisoners ,or use this place as bandit-hunting HQ or whatever the shit we're supposed to be doing, There's something else going on, too." Just what they needed. Complications. "I know you both have a lot of shit going on, but we're going to need you to keep your eyes open and your ears perked while you're here. These bandits seem to have really uncanny timing. They're hitting at least two thirds of the shipments every month. The shipments have been random, Sokka." Toph paused to let that sink in. "There's no way this isn't an inside job. Two men were killed in the last hit and one wounded – they all had families."

Sokka sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He probably had enough knots in his back to rig a ship. "You sure?" The question was futile. They both already knew the answer.

"As sure as you are about your assassin. We both have rats in our houses. And I know you already know, but Chit Sang and I are here for whatever you need. Once we're done here, we're with you all the way back to the Capital 'til these dickfucks are caught."

She gave him a shit-eating grin. "Besides, I've been missing kicking some serious douchecopter bandit butt with you these days."

Sokka smiled broadly. "Yeah, I love you too, Toph."

Toph snorted at him and flicked him off. "Yeah of course you do, why the fuck wouldn't you." Turning on her heel, she sauntered out of his door and disappeared down the hall. He shook his head slowly. That one was turning into one dangerous woman.

The rest of his unpacking went by uneventfully, without a single peep from the rest of the gang. Trying to ignore his anxiety, Sokka carefully considered his wardrobe for that night. While he certainly hoped no one was going to take this performance seriously, he didn't want to show up in rags. They were adults and he really wanted to show Zuko that he could be classy for a night on the town. Sokka groaned. It would only be more obvious if he grew a tail and some fur, stuck his butt in Zuko's face and said 'meow.'

Hakoda had sent him a package recently, complete with a brand-new boomerang and only slightly less important, new duds. The tunic was a dark blue with silver hems, similar to their armor. It was much deeper in tone than the light hues Sokka typically wore and showed a little more skin. The outfit was making him feel either slightly chic or slightly tacky. The jury was still out on that one.

It didn't take long to finish getting ready. After fiddling with his laces for the third time, Sokka decided to bite the bullet and head over to Zuko's room. Trotting the short distance down the hall, he hesitated for a moment before entering. He was still unsure about the dress code for the evening and he crossed his fingers that he'd made the right choice. Sucking in a breath, he ducked his head and marched in. One glance and he was spinning back around to brace against the wall where he bit down hard on his knuckles. He started to count to twenty. It ended up being fifty.

Forget delectable. Zuko looked _mouth-watering_. He must have also felt the chill from outside, because he had shed his usual short red undershirt in favor of a sleek, form-fitting black long-sleeve shirt with a simple gold trim that crossed over itself in the front. His red tunic had been replaced with a deeper burgundy, sporting gold flames along the stiff hem. A simple braided gold belt, black pants, and a pair of tall burgundy boots completed his ensemble. Sokka had never realized what a good combination of black and red could do for a nice set of porcelain skin. Or better yet, what naked could do for porcelain skin.

Whew, hold that thought. Zen. Breathe.

Sokka dropped to a crouch and sucked in a few frantic, deep breaths. His libido had slipped its chains and was dancing naked around a fire with giddy glee, in nothing but his boots. This was ridiculous. Drawing on all his willpower, Sokka clamped down his face and plastered on a smile and reentered the room before his balls failed him. "Zuko? You ready?" If Zuko thought his voice sounded a little strained, he didn't mention it. "I think it's about time to meet them, we don't want to piss off the princess or you can bet tomorrow's breakfast that the door to the bathroom will conveniently disappear at an exceedingly well-timed but inopportune moment."

"I would laugh, but that's probably too close to being true." Zuko was struggling with the braided belt which kept slipping the knot he tied it in. After a painful moment of watching the Fire Lord's ineffective attempts to create a stable knot, Sokka walked over and slapped Zuko's hands away.

"Just stop. You're only making it get wrinkled. Geez, do they not teach you _knot tying_ in school? We learned this crap before we could crawl." With speed and efficiency that even Bato could be proud of, Sokka had undone and retied the knot by the end of his scolding. That sucker wasn't moving even if Zuko went swimming with the Unagi. "There," he said smiling. He gave the knot one more tug and was satisfied, put his hands on his hips and admired his handiwork. "If you have to go to the bathroom tonight, you just pull this corner here…you know what, never mind. Just don't drink anything." He grinned up at Zuko's face only to find it dangerously close to his own.

His eyes widened and the room became painfully bright, causing his eyes to water. He cursed and scrubbed at the sting in his eyes with the back of his hand, using the motion to ease away from the firebender, his heart racing.

"Sorry man, you surprised me." He squinted and blinked away the salty tears to find Zuko staring hard at him.

"You uh, you look really nice. I didn't know you had that kind of outfit. Why haven't you worn it at the palace?" Zuko eyes kept flickering down to Sokka's chest. He had to resist the urge to tug the open lapels to cover up a little bit more of the exposed skin. He couldn't tell if he should be pleased or embarrassed by the scrutiny. Sokka forced his shoulders and arms to relax and hang by his sides.

"Oh, well, it was a present from my dad. Got it pretty recently and I guess I just never thought about wearing it. I dunno. Maybe I was thinking about wearing it to Katara and Aang's party." He shrugged. Glancing down at himself, he frowned. The choice had seemed appropriate at the time but based off of Zuko's reaction, he wasn't a hundred percent sure it had been the right one.

"Should I change?" he asked uncertainly.

"No!" Zuko shouted and lunged at him. Startled, Sokka jumped back and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay…"

"Sorry. No. No, not 'no' as in 'I'm not sorry,' 'no' as in 'don't change.' Sorry. Spirits, never mind, let's just go." Zuko spun away from him and Sokka could see the back of his neck was stained red. Interesting. The Fire Lord glanced at Sokka again and reached out to brush the side of Sokka's face. He realized that his friend was running his thumb over the blue glass beads he'd added to the two tiny braids he'd put in his hair.

"It kept coming out of the wolf's tail, and I thought I'd give the style a try. It seems to work for my dad well enough." It was ridiculous to feel shy at his age.

"I like it," Zuko breathed, "you should keep it. It suits you." Sokka swallowed and nodded, causing the beads to bump against his cheek. Zuko smelled really good, that same spicy flavor that he remembered from a few days ago.

"You uh, you look really… really good, too." _I jacked off thinking about you this afternoon_. Sokka smiled so wide it felt like his face was going to crack.

In an attempt to guide his thoughts to safer waters, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Do you know what time it is?" Zuko froze. Sokka could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

They were out of the room and down the hall before you could say 'quick as an antler bunny.' They reached the kitchen in record time, which seemed to have been transformed into Toph's unofficial base of operations.

"Well, well. Look who decided to show up." The earthbender looked amazing, cleaned up in her native finery. She also looked amazingly irritated, tapping her foot on the ground in an erratic manner. Sokka noted that although Toph had dressed up for the occasion, her choices were still notably loose, allowing for freedom of movement and with few unnecessary frills.

"Sorry we're late." Zuko managed to sound much more sincere than Sokka could have pulled off. Luckily, the fire-bender was also brave enough to voice the question that had plagued him since Toph had brandished the miserable red tickets. "Toph, I know we haven't seen each other in a while, and it's probably good to get out and get our minds off things a little. But are you certain, given the circumstances, that we should be going out tonight with the bandits, a traitor, and an assassin all at large? I just think we should consider our responsibilities."

"Indeed, my dear Fire Lord." Toph sashayed over and threw an arm around Zuko's shoulders. Zuko glanced at Sokka nervously. Not a good sign. "As I am certain that you have by now already deduced for yourself, this is a calculated move and you know it. It gives us the opportunity to canvas the area, meet the locals, maybe get some of the dirt on these people or an in with the crowd. Plus, you're the Fire Lord, you need to make an effort to get to know your subjects. We also need to establish a cover story for why we're here – tourists or some horseshit."

She waved her hand around, squeezing Zuko's head a little tighter with her arm. "Only a couple people know who we really are, even though it appears that you brought _half _your fucking army. We'll just have to make up some Council or Ambassador horse and pony crap, though I suppose for Sokka that's pretty much true." Sokka's mind was racing. She was right. If they were too secretive it would raise more suspicions than necessary. Toph also wouldn't be able to complete the mission she was sent for with only partial knowledge of the area, if this was truly an inside job. He'd been too distracted with his love troubles to think these things through carefully.

She had begun gently guiding Zuko towards the door as she spoke and Sokka shuffled sideways to trail behind with Chit Sang at a safe distance. The bulky man's square jaw was set, like he was preparing to do something particularly distasteful. One could only describe it as a battle face.

"So," Toph concluded with a crow, "since you clearly need a cover story and I clearly need information, there's only one reason you would possibly be asking this question. You wouldn't be trying to _avoid_ going would you? Wasting my hard-earned tickets, hmmm?" Zuko's shoulders slumped in defeat.

They'd passed down the long hallway connecting the kitchens to the rest of the winery. Sokka shot a look at Chit Sang. "Chit Sang," he muttered, "You ever been to an Ember Island show?"

"Once."

Sokka grunted in response. After a beat, "So, uh, how did you like the… show?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm bringing a flask." Sokka nodded. Made sense.

"Enough for two?" Hope was a candle, ever burning.

"Enough for ten."

They fell into a companionable silence after that, listening with bemusement as Toph extolled on the wonders of the Ember Island Musicale to her unwilling escort. Sokka glanced around him with interest as Toph led them on an impromptu tour of their temporary home. When they'd been dashing through the halls earlier, he hadn't had a lot of time to really take in a lot of the villa and they had skipped most of it by entering through the back of the winery. The large building was set up in a series of blocks dedicated to one activity or another. All of the areas connected to a large corridor that was offset to one side of the villa.

About one third of the entire footage was dedicated to a cathedral-like room full of giant metal vats. Wooden barrels lined the walls, stained purple and red where some of the sweet liquid had splashed out. The temperature was considerably lower than the rest of the building, and Sokka could feel the frigid temperature creeping through his boots from the smooth stone floor under his feet as they looked around.

Guest wings, where they had taken up residence, were located centrally in the layout of the house on the opposite side of the main hall than the vat rooms. A cluster of smaller rooms, for temporary use by workers staying overnight or more economical travelers were located farther back. The remainder of the winery, on the same side and adjacent to where the grapes were happily fermenting, were the rooms of the long-term residents and caretakers. A pocket of rooms towards the front held equipment for experimenting with fermentation methods, new machines to de-stem the fruit, revolutionary ways of testing the sugar, acid and alcohol contents. These rooms were part of the winery tour, which was quickly becoming a booming second business for the busy estate.

The walk to the village was pleasantly brusque, and the night sounds of the forest helped soothe Sokka's frazzled nerves. The air in the mountains seemed sharper, cleaner. When they finally rounded the last bend, the lights of the town twinkled merrily with dancing colors from the glass windows. They were on the receiving end of a few cautious glances but for the most part, the citizens seemed to be unfazed by the sight of such an odd band of travelers. The winery tours obviously drew a diverse crowd.

They wound their way through the crowd, past an eclectic assortment of metal shops and bakeries. The smell of oil and warm pastries wafting through the throng of people was unusual but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Most of the village seemed dedicated to the local trade, and Sokka spotted more than one shop with odds and ends relating to grapes and wine. They finally arrived at what appeared to be their destination. Sokka let out a tiny sound of relief and a silent prayer of thanks when it became obvious his choice to err on the side of caution with his wardrobe was the right decision.

The theater's patrons were made up of a colorful mixture of nationalities. A handful of upper crust Fire Nation nobles were standing in a loose circle. They were an elegant bunch and seemed to be laughing and chatting with carefully studied ease.

Green and gold blocks of Earth Kingdom families were the most abundant of the audience. The wine trade probably held a certain appeal to the benders, who had such a close connection with nature. Sokka was certain that the estate had probably even drawn a few permanent residents, evidenced by some of the more skillful landscaping and architecture present.

The Water Tribe denizens were conspicuously absent from the group. He wasn't terribly surprised, as any visiting Water Tribe folk would feel an acute discomfort at being so far out of their element. With a jolt of surprise, Sokka smiled contritely as he had to take back his own thoughts. Standing off to the side in their own little world was a couple, a little younger than Katara and Aang.

The girl was dressed in the finery of the Northern Water Tribe, with the trademark thick chestnut hair plaited in a long rope down her back. The boy was just coming out of the awkwardness of youth and looked like he was still adjusting to his newfound height. They kept stealing glances at one another when they thought it was safe, their hands hanging unnaturally between them with constant brushes of their knuckles. Finally, the girl shyly slid her hand into the young boy's, and Sokka had to choke back a snort as the kid got a totally blissed-out look on his face. Times were certainly changing. It was crazy to think that they had all been younger than those two when they'd waged war on the Fire Nation. These kids looked so naïve, so innocent. It almost made him feel a tiny pang of regret for having to grow up so early. A glanced at Zuko's laughing face as Chit Sang pointed out a wine bottle stopper shaped like Aang's head wiped out any lingering remorse.

Toph sidled up to him and bumped him with her hip. He smiled down at her, knowing she could feel the sentiment, or at least the curve of his lips, through the earth. He was feeling the warm glow of happiness as they filed into the dimly lit theater, and he took a moment to appreciate the lavish red seats fanned out around the dark stage. This venue was definitely a step up from his first viewing of these same players so many moons before.

Solemn stone goddesses stared down at them with various emotions dancing across their smoothly carved faces as they depicted scenes from epic stories long forgotten. He felt the even warmer burn of lust as Zuko settled on his right in the aisle seat, only slightly cooled as Chit Sang occupied the left. He was unaccountably content. It felt like someone had slipped him a drug and for a moment he forgot what they had come there for. At that moment, the lights chose to drop into darkness, and the stage was lit dramatically in stark white light while the curtain drew up to reveal the small troupe of musicians seated behind instruments of varying size and peculiarity.

Sokka had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd pushed something very important to the back of his mind. That feeling was confirmed when Chit Sang whipped out the largest flask he'd ever seen, threw it back for four… six… nine seconds, then passed it Sokka.

Toph leaned around Chit Sang and gave Sokka a withering stare before disappearing back into her seat. Sokka eyed at the amber liquid swirling around in the container, through the round metal lip.

"One, two, three!" A shrill voice counted from the stage.

Then the horror began.

**A/N: I always love your reviews! Please...be gentle. :)**


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